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| Maxfield Parrish |
beatifies the dead earth,
so do the thoughts, imaginings, days, stories,
silences, denial, more and more moments
where you feel bright and I stop crying,
make us forget our impending fate
(hopefully yet undecided)
Maybe the heart needs breaks
not to be quite crushed under the pressure,
or maybe we subtly, secretly tell ourselves
it is ok, just to escape the agony.
How does one get tired of praying?
Why does one regard one's feelings
as the highest authority?
Let not the seeds in me resist dying
because the trees and flowers of peace and beauty
will then never grow.
Let me ease into and relax into
facing the darkness,
because if I keep it away,
the light can't come close either.
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