The Tree of Love…

Tree of love

They called it the tree of love
with eternal blossoms and
dreams dangling in the
mystic romantic silence
between birth and awakening;

And it is to this tree
my dear,that the colours
of my soul hang from.

They told me my love had
no place- for I had not
watered the tree nor basked
in its shade, nurturing it
with a sweet and graceful presence.

Yet, why is it that
my soul returns to it again
and again… unknowing?

Let them collect my colours
and mix them all up
let my colours remain unseen
to my blind eyes and heart-
In a still puddle of unseen joy…

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9 thoughts on “The Tree of Love…

  1. //mystic romantic silence
    between birth and awakening //

    thats an interesting way of looking at it

    //to my blind eyes and heart-
    In a still puddle of unseen joy //

    and a very optimistic take 🙂

    —-
    and the sketch is nice too .. but the puddle is ‘visible’ you see 🙂

  2. Hey Pinguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.. welcome back dudette! Do you do the sketches yourself? This one is awesome! 🙂 Nice poem.. tells me you’re happy. I’m glad too!

  3. They told me my love had
    no place- for I had not
    watered the tree nor basked
    in its shade, nurturing it
    with a sweet and graceful presence.

    Does the shining moon
    care for the pond?
    While shimmering on its edges
    And fading the next night

    Yet, why is it that
    my soul returns to it again
    and again… unknowing?

    What is then but love
    when the moon does smile
    and die forever

    Let them collect my colours
    and mix them all up
    let my colours remain unseen
    to my blind eyes and heart-
    In a still puddle of unseen joy…

    Colours and images, are themselves blind
    Joy in itself knows no joy
    You may not know love My flawless fairy
    But you are love
    resting on my arms

    🙂

    P.S. En garde, eh my penguin?

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