A higher love exists when you're alone amid nature. |
My efflorescence sings on the ground. The loathsome oak leans low to listen. Aching branches hang heavy; unfurl breathless, fanning glory. Each burst fades, tumbles, dutifully crumbles, feeds life back to the giver. Am I loved if I shelter myself beneath the lightning-ravaged trunk? Miraculous droplets of clear purity descend on unprotected chin, knowing I'm an unrepentant sinner 'til the day I spoil the ground with my own decay. Am I loved if I don't lend my instrument to harmonize with your golden voice, a wholesome symphony cascading over mountains meant to spare my dry, forgotten valley? I tell you I'm not worthy of you, returning your 'heartfelt,' echoing praises. Yet I will stand on my heart just to hear your proclamations, lifted higher by the faintest of nurturing words. I gravitate to the hopeful heavens to commune with a lasting felicity. I have known love of the most immaculate perfection, unlike the oily, piteous contempt that in veil slithers about. But, I am as simple as dirt, pale as death with two pink lungs. I return to sit on scorched grass beneath that withered tree, thriving high on faithful bluff. Thread-like roots yearn God's tender mercy and the only reward one solitary man can humbly receive. This poem got its start thanks to one random poster in my notebook: "Note: You are loved, my friend. *Heart* " Then, the original poem, 'Am I Loved?' was spawned, raw and unedited, in my blog with an addendum... "Am I Loved?" See, we can inspire one another here. Interaction is important to keep this community flourishing. There is no telling what beauty can bloom if we spare a few words for one another, now and then. http://spillwords.com/efflorescence-song/
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