Passion Be The Colour Indigo { A Metaphorical Verse } Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

Bleeding-out its xylem sap,
phloem oozing from the heart,
of the thick barked wetwood-
negotiating crooked grooves
with carved pressed spiral;
a slow and painful death
succumbs to winters rot,
and the forest grieves its friend
for a moment, then moves on;
so hard and cold can passion be.

Deep within our vascular streams
we bleed in darkest indigo
thru' the brooks of our narrowed veins,
in rivers of bloody blue,
like the wounded heart, breathless,
'less the flesh breaks open air,
transmuting like a chameleon...
to the dark of the darkest reds.

Holding-cell for passion the human heart be,
harbouring warmth within its bundle branches;
hot pulse melting dry ice lament,
the sting, immeasurabally maddening
as the heart battles love's inertia,
'til faith affords loves sweetest flame,
and sadness be but memories,
to the moist, verdant buddings-
of springs freshened breeze
ushering in- bringing forth,
passions renaissance.





Frank J. Ryan, Jr.
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