Thursday, 22 December 2016

The Desert rose blooms from lost seeds of hope.

I watched, as one by one the grains of sand fell through the glass of time.

I heard them fall, each one a hope, each one turning to dust, descended into that abyss, this world became dark and the music was gone. Inspiration deserted me, a love lost, ground to shreds upon the the mill of time, this part of something became a part of nothing within that mist, that acrid smoke.
I choked upon it, welcomed the end, searched for oblivion, and yet within this lost world, this longest darkest night of the soul I found hope once again could bloom.

Two all but broken things, one chance taken, one opportunity grabbed by the starving, both hands reaching out, hungry for hope, for possibility.
Two worlds which circle one another in a cruel dance of mistrust born of love and reared by loss, could this really be ?
Two minds that see though the same eyes, angry as these fires of hell burned around them, those icy flames that in truth offer no warmth.

And yet, from this pit of despair we climbed, each hold more fragile than the last, until we hit that gentle slope, there, we could feel the faint breeze of relief upon our faces, warmer now as it flowed across this arid land, we spoke of dreams, we ran toward the shadows and embraced the light within, we held each other as this sun was rising, cutting through the fog, moving forward, slowly at first, then to run like children, breathe the air of life.

We were back.

This fragile earth upon which we walk did welcome our storm, and I once again heard music upon the wind, faint words whispered into my ear. Those who loved us began to circle our fire, this darkest of nights became brighter as they too breathed a sigh of relief.

And so, it seems, we are what this world has made us, good and bad, sometimes we must roll the dice, take that leap of faith, for the impossible is indeed possible, we hold what we have been given close to our hearts because it is the fibre of our souls, we cannot ever forget those who are no longer present,we just need to remember that love is the sharpest blade, the keenest edge, the true forge of what remains of humanity.
Two broken things can become one splendid thing, two lost souls can find their way out of the wilderness or even simply learn to love being a part of it.

I count myself a lucky man, for I have loved, I have been loved, I lost that love and my heart was shattered into a thousand pieces, one by one they return, the sands of time defy gravity and sing themselves upwards into the sphere that is living. A part of me died yet now I am alive, as if fate herself had listened to those screams of pain and decided that within her pity she would deal me a second chance.

I found love again, I found passion and hope, I found music and inspiration. It was there all along, but nothing comes to the ones who wait for it to come to them, every journey must start with reason.

Love is like the desert rose, it may have thorns and yet it is able blossom within the harshest of environments, and when you are lucky enough to gaze upon its beauty you know that you can live again.

Flags,Flax and Fodder. Tony. xxxxx