Saffron On The Line

Photo on 2017-08-01 at 8.01 AM #2

saffron hangs with folds of gold
the morning sun draws white lines on each fold
I fear my sunflowers will show their faces while I am gone
droplets of moister hangs onto the tip of the heavy leaves
transparent and delicate yet I can sense its weight

for a moment the air that surrounds me 
fills with a fragrance 
of a flower bidding good morning to the sun
my eyes, drawn to only one
amongst a wave of deep purple
only one looks back at me
fluttering in the still air

then it comes
sensing the opportunity
that moment when the world knows you are distracted
when it knows you feel at ease and secure
then it comes
like a hawk flying over his terrain
waiting for that moment
the moment when it is least suspected
when you have mindlessly left the door to your heart open
when you have let your guard down
it walks in and fucks with you
smiles, camouflage the dagger
I repeat myself
I repeat my self
I repeat myself
out of disappointment in myself
anger points only to me, 
for only I am to blame
weeks have passed where I have felt secure
feeling that I may be able to live
some kind of life
the universe knows when there is a soft spot
evil and good fly side by side
there is no real dissimilarity

what road must I walk next
must my entire life be the endless turning of pages
from a large book of lessons
perhaps, my moments of feeling secure
my naked feet on the warm earth
is the wrong path
perhaps I am not to get comfortable
I am not to be here
could that be the next lesson

I am so conditioned to please
so conditioned it that I feel I need to throw up
why is an open, extended hand perceived as weakness
perhaps it’s the old saying
survival of the fittest
there are no solutions
no crystal ball
just grin and bear it till the end

my saffron hangs on the line
all tangled unable to move back or forth
the symbolism is uncanny

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2 Replies to “Saffron On The Line”

  1. A powerful piece, that sudden unexpected black thought/feeling that takes hold of mind and body. You can tell yourself it’s no more than a thought bubble, but it’s there, and so hard to let the dark cloud pass, so hard not to blame ourselves. The Buddhists call it the “second arrow.” The first arrow wounds but it’s followed by the second arrow–all our feelings around that. I’ve been a practicing Buddhist for many years, it’s helped but still I struggle with it. 💛

    Like

    1. Thank you for your unquivering support, Steve. I keep wanting to write Steven hehe.
      Interesting that you are a Buddist. I have been one for years though I admit that the daily practice of chanting has fallen falling back for quite a few years now, only picking up my book of prayers on occasion when I feel desperate or very secure. It’s the times in between when I feel fear the chanting for its then when you ask for things, and as we well know you get them but not necessarily in the way you wish. Mostly I chant for an understanding of others and myself. 🙂

      Like

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