The Soul That Burns Into the Sun

I fold my visions in the pages of my Sanskrit
And let my prince sway me until my mind is a swirl
With an array of colors of purple, violet, blue and pink
Surrounding my sedated thoughts.
Shepherd guide me home to my calling,
And let me drink of the mystic waters
That flow from your candied eyes.
I want to follow you into the weeping shire
When I tremble at the sound of your drizzled voice.
Send me into the burning brigade,
And I will honor you with vows of eternal loyalty
To the ways of the whorl.
I have not franchised the kisses you invested in me,
But have instead allowed my angry tides to multiply
This vast field that provides me with nurturing.
I praise you in the autumn breeze and sallow all that is holy.
For I vested into the humble debris that blankets my body
With your essence that fills my cloudy spirit with bliss.
You are my violin whose voice glides down into the fainting sky.
I wish to offer you the hominy that dwells inside my childish cistern,
I wish to get a good look at the soul that burns into the sun,
But my eyes betray me and the sands are too meek.

Author's Note

What do you think of the prose?

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

For I vested into the humble debris that blankets my body
With your essence that fills my cloudy spirit with bliss.

The human condition for sure.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Those who never step into the fire will never know the rush of going down in flames. I love prose poetry and you are excellent at it.

[Randolf Ramos]

Spiritually brilliant poem! great.
Keep on finding happiness in simple things.
Keep it up keep on writing!