In my dreams
Whether experienced in the waking
Or upon sojourning slumbers shore
Is seen the visage of a rose aflame
It drifts there in the vacuum of my being
The very altar of my existence
Suspended in shadows alone and wanting
Waiting as if to be grasped or given
Fearful I was and well turned-out
When first I stumbled upon it
The very thing that which by nature I knew
To be mine own pure essence kindled
In its concentrated form my spirit revealed
Its purest sacrament uncovered
Committed to bliss yet long before I understood
And knew what true love was
In an angels hands I first beheld it
And observed my truest self
I watched as its petals slowly opened
And it wordlessly sang its song
Thanks to the angel whose hand I still hold
It has remained steadfast and true
Faithfully lighting this shrouded temple
A solitary light in this present darkness
Bringing hope to my hopelessness and joy in the midst of sorrow
Bound it is by broken chains
Unfettered by doubt
Its sole occupation is love
Constantly exerting itself generating heat
Feeding the corporeal blue flames surrounding it
Filling the void with its form and substance
Silently and increasingly expanding its reach into my life and soul
Always before me never wavering
Its image glows searing itself into my unconsciousness
Yearning for speech and expression and voicelessly searching
For the source from whence it came
The burning bush
With its petals red as rubies
With its thorns as sharp as spears
Its sublime likeness stilled whilst living flames envelop it
Thus has my mind’s eye forever been affected
The rose has become the ethereal center of all I survey
Subliminally lighting my path
Every night and throughout the day
To it I am now bound
Its fate my very own
May it never fade
May its fragrance fill the air
Through seasons exalted
Through season mourned
Through feelings of ecstasy
Through feelings of pain
I pray to its maker
For the rose
to remain