the gardener ventured
across the country
till he found
the perfect plot

young, unsown
fertile
and ready to be
used

he did as any gardener
would do
he planted his seed
knowing
his flower would grow

he planted his seed
and waited
he watered the ground
and waited

a young sprout
broke through the soil
and the gardener beamed
his flower was growing

and it grew
and it grew

he watered his flower
and gave her food
he thought she needed
and he plucked away
what she didn't

his flower was small
and delicate
he needed to protect her
protect her from others

she was his flower
and his alone

if she grew astray
he pulled her back
into her place

and all she was
was just his flower
and his alone

Down among assemblage of the common
I gaze up to the peak of the Mountain of Glory
It pierced into the heaven and embraced its purity
Many who lacked the determination have failed to touch it
Will I be able to achieve the crown?
These doubts charred the courage of my soul
But then a voice within the depth called out
‘We may rise and fall, but then we get an opportunity.
An opportunity to get up and continue our journey.’
With these thoughts orbiting around my mind
I initiated my journey from the bottom
The mountains resisted me for I was a stranger to them
It started raining and I was wet yet I continued.
Then there was the blizzard and I was cold
I was frozen like a soulless entity yet I continued.
Frustrated for having failed to eradicate me
The mountains unleashed shower of boulders
Alas! My left leg got crushed under the weight of a merciless boulder
I was crying alone on the mountain terrain
Nobody replied back to my cries except for my echoes
My blood-bathed leg turned cold and lifeless
I took off my shirt and tied it around my leg to stop the bleeding
I then, continued supporting my entire body upon my right leg
Limping and leaving behind ruby droplets I climbed
Upon climbing the last elevation! Oh! I reached the peak!
Gentle zephyrs of the heaven welcomed and cheered me!
The Sun glowed brightly to acknowledge my glory!
My name was written among the names of the immortals!
While the birds sang ‘Ye have conquered the Mountain of Glory!’

My tongue is leathered
vvith glory
an oral  j  u m  p   r o p e
            in the darkness!

Joy!!!
might you trip
&& break a femur
to make a meal of yourself?

Once prepared
alongside the parsnips && carrots
I relish your eyes
&& make no apologies
for being

Don't be sad
to be svvallowed
Some
are not as lucky

‘Cause I looked up at you as
Glory shout through my ears
And lightning struck my chest.
You sat,
Entirely unaware of the shock you
Sent through me.
I battled against every tear
Forming in the wells of my eyes
As they simply stopped,
Staring at you.
Quietly. You remained, unnoticing.
Breath barely found my lips.
You wrote.
Glasses hanging from your face
Glancing the words and they rolled
On and on.
And on and on
I gazed at you.
The heaving thud of my heart
Tearing tremors through my fingertips
And they tried to convey
You.
Poorly. As if knowing their inadequacy.
Even if written in blood upon the page
Only my veins
Would know what that lightening was like.
Slowly.
Only they have felt every drop you have
Changed in me.

I want to be where you are,
For you have a peculiar way of feeling so distant from me.
I am longing for another moment of triumphant belonging.
One that comes like a spurt of overflowing rapture
Within my weary heart.

I am released
From being drowned in deep waters
And suddenly, musical sounds break the muted,
Submerged silence
That for so long flooded my ears.

I see your face somewhere
In the glimmering iridescent halo of the sun.
My iniquities trickle from my eyelashes
And stream my cheeks.
They pool at my collarbones and rush down my arms
Once my chest heaves at the chance to breathe in
More of you.
Then off the tips of my fingers they fall; forgettable, insignificant.

Beached on the shores of my loneliness,
You meet me.
Seeing my shackles, a slave to sin, I am exposed
In my unworthiness and tarnished in self-deceit.
But you loosen my chains, binding only
My broken heart.

The iron turns to sand and I can feel it
Slipping and singing laments into the wind.
Right there is where the temple of self-righteousness
Crumbles.
In a heap of ruins lay my complacency and conceit.

You’ve been waiting to clothe me in the white
Of your salvation, and you wrap me
In a violet righteousness woven distinctly for me.
In the place of my shame, you fill that pit in my stomach
With a double portion of everlasting joy.

Beneath our feet
The earth brings forth sprouts of brilliant green.
Unimaginable colors spring up joyfully
Into a fruitful garden of immense splendor.
Individual flowers bloom for each prayer
Sown by your angels over my soul.

The moment is like a rare jewel or precious stone.
I want to collect it and hold it delicately in my hands.
I want to wear it on my fingers and wrists
For the chance to adorn others
With the sparkling gold and silver of your abundant grace.

Where there are jubilant fields lined with thick forestry,
I see emerald gems lodged half-revealed in the rock.
I see how the veins in my arms match the patterns
Of rivers carving through the land.
I notice the rhythm of my breathing
And the peaceful rise and fall of a gentle shoreline.

If I could see that the blue in the sky,
Green in the fields,
Gold in the sun,
And brown of the rich earth
Rests in the flecks of my eyes,

Perhaps I would realize that you have made me
To always be where you are.


h.v.