Rose of Jericho

The night beckons with its rain-infused air,
each star a memory of a time before.
Luna is penchant on the palanquin of night,
as her luminescence drags the floor.

I undress slowly and bare my soul
as Luna walks barefoot with silken braid -
a pearl in the sky, luminous and bright,
with a velvet hem of dark brocade.

In the shade of your palpable absence,
the wounds are deep and desultory.
I've swallowed the tears, the uncounted days;
my lonely soul, lost, in purgatory.

My broken quill quivered, its teardrops fell
when no words would come for repeating,
when the moonlight waned, dissolved into words
that were lost within my own heart's beating.

The sea wind rolls across a moonlit tongue;
and emotions dangle from the shoreline's ear.
Luna bares her breast, a looking glass,
and the truth is made perfectly clear.

Love is the ladder between heaven and earth.
It is written above and then read below.
It may weep in shadow but laughs in the light,
the ever-enduring Rose of Jericho. *

Author's Note

* The Rose of Jericho, otherwise known as Odontospermum pygmaeum, is a desert plant growing in the sands of Egypt, Syria, Arabia, and Mexico. The Rose of Jericho can never die. When dry, it looks like a wisp of withered grass; but with a little water, it always comes to life again.

Reviews

[Legion]

very touching. A beautiful piece. I love the last stanza best. And thanks for the info on the rose. Didn't know that. Kudos.