Still Life
Original Language English
The rose that no longer blooms in the garden,
blooms inside her whole body, among the veins
and organs and the skeleton.
-- Linda Gregg
A hidden blossoming.
Petals flaming beneath the skin.
And a softness pressing,
as delicate as the mouth
of a blind lover.
Each movement,
each quiet gesture
awakens
a rosary in the blood.
Was it desire
which brought her to this moment,
this arrival at source,
or was it merely a need
to be still, to be richly fed
from this fountain
of dark silence.
blooms inside her whole body, among the veins
and organs and the skeleton.
-- Linda Gregg
A hidden blossoming.
Petals flaming beneath the skin.
And a softness pressing,
as delicate as the mouth
of a blind lover.
Each movement,
each quiet gesture
awakens
a rosary in the blood.
Was it desire
which brought her to this moment,
this arrival at source,
or was it merely a need
to be still, to be richly fed
from this fountain
of dark silence.
 | -- from Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey, by Dorothy Walters |
