Taking Tea in the Black Rose has a tendency
to draw to it those who are fluent in the language and
unseen mystery of loss and death.
Its love on each page, as on every breath,
a fresh array of those dreary wintery things
the cool spring rains so wittingly wash away.
Each new day holds a flavor quite distinct.
For the more refined palate it's a madman in a stage-play
who claims he doesn't get out much these days.
He hides a rifle in the men's room at the local sports arena...
When the trial was over, the irony of his plea
which he gleefully uttered to the best of his peers
his dark legacy secured for two thousand years
from three simple words the world shivers--"just in case".
Or maybe it's the thoughtful glance you get
from a handsome stranger's face that
curls your toes and makes your eyes light up
like Roman candles on Independence Day.
It gives me chills to think about it now, yet
no single word could ever erase your unique and
precious memories throughout all time and space.
This world can also be quite a simple place.
With just a sip or a zap it can all go away.
Captured in this stillness of a twilight serenade,
night turns to day--and then the whole cycle replays.
For now I take leave, the mute actor backstage
reunited with himself upon Sanity's shore.
Like never before blind faith beheaded by
the beauty and purpose of Narcissus' blade.
But as incorruptible as tradition may to us seem,
in our dreams no effort is ever forced or applied.
The winds of consciousness are but
the awareness that glides upon sunbeams
so high above impermanent clouds.
Craig A. Combs
19 March 2013
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