The answer to my
questions
Where can this love
be found? This question became a blog of deep grief, uncertain wonder,
recurrent reminiscing, and disturbing thoughts. To a point, I realised I could
no more force it, the objects of affection were reduced to plants, roses that
bloom but were a harvest of thorns that choked away the passion before it
became a fashion. The flower withering long you brought your nose to embrace the
whiff of a scent that betrays its beauty.
Another was like
cactus, attractive in the desert, sometimes with colour, deceptively suggesting
an oasis is nearby, but needing neither care nor attention, self-satisfied in
the nutrients it gleans from nature, surviving on hardship than love, just as
prickly to the touch that it fits in no garden. Not even in the Eden of dreams.
To some friends, the
interests were discussed terms of plants much as there was one who in his internment
might well have nourished the plants that thrived on his grave. I did not know
where that love could be found.
Then
I found paradise,
As I looked deep in his eyes,
In the embrace of his arms,
All my storms, it calms.
As I looked deep in his eyes,
In the embrace of his arms,
All my storms, it calms.
That is a poem or a
song to be completed eventually because I found someone and fell so crazy in
love with him. Yes, we find love and it is wonderful to express.
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