Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Black Tulip

Bitter to taste, something offensive
But addictive too, like one's first drink
The body knows it’s of no good
But the ingrained mind going
Soft, seedy, getting mildly fouled
Knows no better than that world
It had abandoned, when it was fresh
Full of sapience, vital and almost free
Flowing without hesitation, in the wind
Blowing without obstacle, on the tulips
Swaying without trepidation, in that song
Of May, yellows through reds, the season
Where life should of begun- nothing was
Sombre or murky- the rain fell as pure
As diamond crystals, the quite Earth
Was a gift to be gently unwrapped,
An unhurried experience to be revealed
In its own rhythmic surely paced way
There can never be any going back.

Still with age the tulips change their colour
And their fragrance the mind will forget
For black has become the colour of light
Absorbing all into the ways of this world,
Where only memories redeem the lost soul.