the quest continues

we are fatherless children

i watch the last moments of

masculine display

the bravado of having won

the war of the roses

i leave a dead orchid

the last of its buds clinging to the branch

the leaves yellow

metaphors for what was and what could be

it’s time to play with form and function

in love, life, and art

i’m surrounded by images of the goddess

but she is never depicted on her knees

so i have picked myself up

dusted myself off

and decided to search for divinity

somewhere other than in another person’s arms

maybe it’s in the trees or the flowers or the river

or maybe nowhere at all

but it’s the hope of finding it

that pushes me forward with all this baggage

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3 thoughts on “the quest continues

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