Life behests that before I can address the jarring sordid question,
you must have reached your attaining mark.
Embracing our beings’ essence with discretion, would not,
should not strangle the spark.
My hopes dragged through the darkest of the dark,
while your dreams evaporating, fading, and paling out.
Our burning hearts, hung up, in the immaculate light,
desiring what the mind’s short circuiting scruples will kill at first sight.
A recipe for paining souls, it seems the vicious reel keeps spinning, and my poisonous tail has your carefree faith incessantly stinging.
Yet you, Aphrodite’s Child, disarm me with your grandeur of Spirit, and my will, it pivots, it falters and I resent me more,
bordering self-loathing limits.
So I’ll let you show me how we can be Crusoes, overcoming the hurtful spiraling storm, feasting upon the simple things in life, knowing that tonight, closure only comes from inner reform.
And as such in time, and through coeval space, our once convoluted, blocked souls are reinvented and forever transformed. The relentless pursuit of spiritual totality; let’s seek it, til’ eternity’s dawn.
Helen Marie Joyce 