Your words are cold water
on the embers of hope in my heart.
They extinguish the heat
of my love for you.
I welcome this cooling now,
and bathe my face in the rising steam
knowing you cannot fulfill my dreams
and it’s better if the last of hope dies.
Better if the heat leaves the embers of my heart
so the charred remains may decompose
creating fecund soil for new growth
of a strange and beautiful flower
the seeds of which lie deep below.
As the embers cool and turn to rich dust
I see the clear green sprout,
the new growth of this esoteric bloom.
Strong and unique,
an exotic multi-colored sunflower
primeval and forward-moving.
Green tendrils reaching out from a colorful head
towards Love, in all of its forms.
Rooted to withstand the storms of emotional attachment
Growing full and beautiful
under the all encompassing heat of divine love.
© Jill Joy