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Waiting While The Roses Break Open
Author: Karla Bardanza

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Time lies into your body
as we shout our desire
to the stars, watching
the moon swimming in
ponds of black pearls.

Between us all the rivers,
all the mountains paint unobservable
mysteries. Between us a thousand
words to be revealed, an altar of
tomorrow.

I wait.

Daisies blossom,
Leaves sigh.
Darkness enters my face.
I stand there waiting for
what I canít see any more:
that vision is still sacred.
A fragrance hidden in my hands.

I still reach you.
My mind touches the past
and your perfect beginning.
Some things are tattooed in sweet scars:
We bleed but they do us immense good.
Beyond this landscape I shall understand,
There must be valleys and hills, maybe
a rainbow or even a light in the end of
this tunnel carved out of black poems.

I wait.

The roots of my body thrust in this
unknown ground as I find you in the sleeves
of my hope.
But tomorrow is another day in this silent
calendar.

I wait.

Roses can still break open.
I will consider all possibilities,
I will think about noble things again.

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