Bereft

Picture: Yardena Kurulkar’s Kenosis, winner of the 64th Blake Prize

Bereft
(Trish Jean)
Things of the heart can
Be hard
We share
A common organ
Yet our take
On love can
Be so different
And in its
Absence we
Conjure up
A limited landscape
Where the sun is just light
And the stars don’t overwhelm
Or we indulge
In a deeper grace where
Love is consecrated
By conscious invitation
Calling more than eyes
To see and
The blessed feeling
That scatters
Is let loose
And home becomes as
A kaleidoscope that
Lives within
And alters with the
View and the
Ride of emotions
From hope to
A destination
That may never
Be truly
Arrived at
Offering only
Stations passed
The glimpses of
Many guises
Purporting to
Be more
Than just the stories
We make
Of love founded
On what we’ve known
Or find ourselves
Mere bit characters
In
Denuded of
Layer upon layer
The heat rising
To burst
Such that the flotsam
And jetsam
Removed from
The heart
By this action of
Scattered being
Or lodged longing
Strips it of its
Elemental self
Until in the quiet
Disintegration it
Becomes again
The ironic
Common organ

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