“Illusions, Realism, and the Gardens of God”

The stars in the sky beckon to me, captivating me
from this awkward authenticity and conjuring a new
one right before my eyes, leaving me breathless and astonished.
The dim moonlight gives way to the fluorescent illumination
of morning, branding me a new day, and one hopefully I
will truly be able to see you despite the raptures
of covetousness and antagonism.
My eyes seek this new reality with yearning and
open arms, the likes of which I never thought feasible.

Could this be Eden?
That is all I can articulate to myself as I begin to feel a
concentrated inelegance in my body, like that of pain,
yet also pleasure and contentment.

The shades of the sky are like a painting, subtle, yet dazzling,
as my eyes fix on a figure sitting below the horizon.
My arms twinge, my legs smolder with the intensity of a
thousand fires, but yet I carry on, lifting one limb
after another in the anticipation of reaching this entity,
this pursuit that tugs so strongly at my will.

The jade grass feels sharp as needles against my stripped feet,
but still I trudge onward, to this figure I now
distinguish more transparent than before.
Her hair is like that of sunshine, dull, yet vivid when
the radiance hits it just right and hangs so diligently
right above her exposed shoulders, strait as an arrow,
yet delicate, like that of a feather suspended in the breeze as it dances the steps of our ancestors
towards an indefinite destination.

As I come closer to the figure,
I experience the encumbrance departing
my once weary body, invigorating it, breathing new life and
energy I had long since failed to remember.
I am still so far away from her, yet I feel so near.
Her essence still draws me from my preceding location and
beckons me to be in hers, were there is absolutely no agony or suffering, distress or misery, and no irritation or antipathy.

My expedition continues,
beyond trees higher than any mountain,
water clearer than glass,
and rocks smoother than polished ceramic.
My destination comes closer and closer every second,
bestowing upon me more and more expectation
with every breath I obtain to get there.
I can sense my spirit lifting,
soaring to altitudes where only eagles dare,
and emancipating me from the confines
of this worn-out body I once knew.

I at last appear to her engaging face,
a smile expanded across the foundation
of it, and the twinkle of the celebrated in her eyes.
I discovered what the stars had been illustrating to me,
the devotion I comprise for this woman.
The existence I include with her in the upcoming future,
and the days I have to look forward to,
spending with this angel in my brave new world.

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About Robert L. Franklin

Ah, the About Me section - social networking's excuse for you sounding like an elitist prick. Hmm... what to say? What to say?
This entry was posted in Springtime In Atlantis and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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