Friday, February 5, 2016

The Lotus.. beauty from the mud

Oh no... Venus was not from the ocean,
she has her roots in the murky mud.
The myths were made from a mad man's mind...
tales from scales and crud... quagmire to be precise.

Edit this my evil friend, edit to your heart's content,
we are all in this together again, and again,....
if that is in your will, do with me what you will.
(there are no more "so
sorrys," or tears to spill).

You see, I thought it out, my heart can't stand the thoughtless
draught, or doubt, or wanton ways, you live your life
in a heartless daze. But in the morning murmur drool,
you live your days as thread to spool. Slaving for toil in countless
ways, to what fallen god do you give praise?

When here I am in shame and doubt, a knob in a pool
of murky past. I look from that pool where my roots are
laid, and I bless them for the dreams they once made.

I know my place in that pond of dark,
seen my roots underneath me, scary as a shark.
Oh bite me already if you must, my daze come from a mirrored place.
A living testament to your disgrace... I feel you face to face.

I will grow and flower from that damp, dark space, for
I know their plans, yet I know my place. I am a flower
in a pool of mud, kindred to a school of blood, but when roots
beneath the surface lie, what gives boost to shoots in the sky?

A lotus is pointed, a kind and gentle flower whose roots lie
buried in a murky pool... she is an arrow to what will be,

the lotus is a beauty rising, and found in the you and the me.

A lotus is sacred, the Lotus is free.

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