The Metaphore

Dear god every tear drop that falls from my eye
Is like a rain drop falling to the rose from the sky
It opens my heart like the rain does rose petals
It is made of a liquid in which all my love settles
It runs down my cheek as I see you smiling at me
It brings me relief as it heals my heart, so gently
It warms my face like your soft touch does my cheek
In your arms, Mother, I find what I seek

As my tears fall to meet the ground, they meet
With the same earth that has been blessed with your feet
They become one with that which is so holy
There is no greater honour, Mother, then to become wholly
One with you, so let my tears be metaphors
For me, and may I flow to reach the shores
That rush across the sand to wash your feet, a rose petal
That will drift as you guide me and settle
Forever mother at your holy lotus feet.

The Aspiring Scribe

 

 

 
 
 


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