A Three-Part Harmony

I.

There are forms that resemble you,

murderous moments that cough you up,

like the dilemma of a wheelchair

or a table laid bare, barren,

we hunger for more

in the stronghold and sanctuary

of Love, unconditional, effaced,

chaste in the utmost

and following only the imprint

footsteps of the Lord in refurbished places. 

 

II.

So I uproot myself and walk

many paces in your direction,

falling short of all grace

with these tokens of gratitude,

aftermath of desperation

wrought with invisible hands,

moulded by bent fingers

in the twinkling light of the stars. 

 

III.

But a Justice speaks out

of my Soul, and I retch up

the futility of reason and I reek of deceit. 

Love, we have pursued

one another in the pursuit of Truth;

here we are, laced

with regret like ropes off the mast:

solidified, materialized splendour,

because the bedrock spire of the foundation

rises Godlike into the Sky.

07/12/2016

San Francisco International Airport

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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2018

atazargarof@gmail.com

BC, Canada