Field of Flowers (Pt. 3): Flames of Illusion

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Ignore the path in which the rains fall hard.
Walk into the blazing fire.

The flowers pray for help.
For a miracle to save them
from the heat.

But as we walk through the towering flames,
we notice no burn.
No scarring upon our skin,
and no ashes on the ground.

I look around and see
the fire still soaring.
But you've moved forward,
away from these illusionary flames.
I can hear you calling my name,
but I hold to where I stand.

I kneel on the ground,
the fire slowly seeping into my heart.
My fingers brush against one untainted flower.
And sorrow fills my soul
when I see the pedals wilt
into a vague nothing.

The flames begin to burn my skin.
But they're just an illusion,
for you remain untouched.
It's when I touch
just one more flower,
that I notice the cause of this.

Upon closed eyes,
the flames disperse
and give way to a warmer light.
I hear my name once more,
and my eyes open.

Surrounding me is the image
of something so familiar:
a field of flowers.

The flames are gone
and my wounds are healed.
I reach for a flower
and smile when the pedals
don't wilt away.

And together we stand,
with the pedals brushing our cheeks,
and kissing our noses,
as we gaze upon the land.
A land which is our own.