Field of Reeds is a heavenly paradise where Osiris rules. Ka of the Nile.
Ancient Egyptians believed that the soul resides in the heart.
Upon death, the Weighing of the Heart occurs.

I drank from the cup of His salvation and entered in
while the sun drank me and poured me out
I stood in the silence of time with my heels down  
weighing out the world  I measured my breath,
and found it to be good.  It is there that I understood
that Aaru fields of reeds is a golden healing place
that I could go to when I needed to be comforted;
I walked in with my shield and sword lifted high
shuffling through the reeds with my tender feet
not a blade of grass stirred not a single sound incurred
as my vision blurred, I dropped all my weapons
all my masks and facades for an ounce of Honesty;
I took my first sip of life at the cusp of death
and realized it was not I who named me Great Warrior
it was Osiris, as He pressed the Ankh to my forehead
my third eye opened and what I saw was a man with a heart of Gold.

Summer thoughts arrive and soon I glide away behind a dream  
scribbling in the sand poetic words as I sit beside the stream

watching children play aside sandcastles tall as bastle forts
I capture every smile and laughter rising up with sweet escort

beneath a sky of rosy quartz I ease, content as a poet in love
words flow out and flap away like  happy wings on a turtle dove

Wading pools, barking dogs, ice cream trucks with jingles, a refresh  
ablaze with summer heat I scribe beside the water tanned enmeshed

Taken in by the fragrance of a moment, I get lost aside the sea  
scratching at the surface of a written verse that only I can see    

I am the composer of this love letter, down the river of joy it glides  
sailboat fantasies arrive and before I know it, I'm on the other side.  

March 3, 2022

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche


Dance beneath the magic moon and listen to the flute
the stars will spangle brightly and then render you a mute
Twirl around the trees feel the brush of wind against your skin
the music of the forest has bounce it lives and breathes within
Bap Bap boom boom boom bap goes the sound of the rain
let it trickle down your face and take away your pain
life a technicolor beat in every note pure heaven
twisty water waves that flow with ascension  
the music of the nymphs will take you  higher than the stars  
mayhap it will just guide you, all the way to Mars
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

Go ahead and lift your broken wings to the Lord
He is more than capable of stitching ever wayward feather
remember that you were once an angel in His ward
just like St Michael, back then you used to wear a sword
In A satchel of hope, he has placed brilliant silver
stars that never extinguished with the dying of the light
inside you...
He loved you despite your wounded self
He loved you despite your angry self
Don't allow Satan the opportunity to cleave you
and make you feel like throw away trash
He is the one that formed you in your mother's belly  
not a day goes by that He doesn't check on you
Remember that you were once an angel to reckon with
back in the days when the earth was a ball of blue
and it had nothing to do with you;
He loved you because your heart was His,  
He loves you still,  because you are still,    HIS *

Date: Feb 25, 2022
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name Inspirational Christian

I see a world in dire need of rose colored glasses
though the earth has memorized the cradle of my form
I have yet to find the fitted shape of my reality;
Looking around me I see scared people living in fear
crucially masked they long for, yesterday's dream;
The elongated hope that has stretched our living days
is coming to an end.  It is time for positive change...
One day soon you will see my pupils once again
and I will blind you with the sight of my smile !
You will feel my hug, and when we touch again  
the cornerstone of our free world
will pierce through past illusions
and you will see me as the girl you once knew
I will be happy all the time and I will never be blue.

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

Far away by the oceanside  I sit and watch the seagulls fly
inside a pale orange sun that has yet to warm a reposing sand
Over by the boardwalk the air still hums of yesterday's feet
two youngsters feeding pelicans perched on feathered height

The smell of fried shrimp coming out of a windowless kitchen
tall glass pina colada bottles with little umbrellas inserted in  
down by the ocean the burgundy traces of a latent sun arrives
as we sip slowly, and eat quietly, atop the hotel peer

Its as if it happened yesterday but I can still smell the French fries
wrapped in plaid red and white paper drenched in crisping oils
Pungent odors of chlorinated water from the pool now all gone
replaced by freshly shampooed hair, and lingering sun tan lotion

Wearing a linen white dress and my recently purchased mala beads
I feel more Zen in my pinky today then I felt in a lifetime my friend
far away by that ocean it was the perfect vacation without any fear  
when I stop to think, I hope that I could return there, next year....

Beyond the escarpment of love a 2nd hand rose thrives, trying not to die  
the gardens are pregnant in bloom as Mei in her China gown asks why
the authentic sun shines both to burn the winding paths of languid lies
and to non-discriminate the swell of her pearls, this is her Dynasty cry

Stunning gardens giving birth, young brides and padded stoic grooms
happy gregarious music plays a Guangling melody of old while she enchants
the whispering winds, she tries not to think of her future  as the hour slips
  
Typhoon Marge 1973, a wedding picture framed in white taken by the lot
but on this previous day not a stroke of wind not an ounce of water to mar
the union of two souls,  beyond the crystal ball gazes of two young lovers
the sea is still untouched, no rain induced landslides yet, no ***** terrain

A flood of emotions isolate Mei, the coastal flood fill  her lungs  
she is a deluge before a torrent of people who watch in quiet consent    
This ceremonial ritual quadrant union breaks, as she makes her escape
no pre-arranged singling spot, just a rolling sea and the rise of her breast
******* in air she runs, runs, runs, and runs, away from him .
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022