The Two Rejoiced In Elemental Bliss Poem by A.J. McKinley

Night emblem in the grape grove,
The relics’ of mist all frown statues,
Glares flicker off light tanned sunrays,
The foliage dense, character humble,
All children of heaven, sky unearthed,
The new beauty the garden, she is rest,
Aloft day in the feathers of a women,
Climbing wind is a newborn, he smiles,

And the chalice of nature drips heavenly
While a  dragonfly warns of spring's return.
Earthly seas of smoldering lust;
Laughter kisses the Heaven's shadow.
The altar of trust is unblemished.
As truth mocks the heart's sojourn.
Innocence lures the sultry dance,
 And she weeps with adorned frailty.

Scuffling poetry rhythms,
Make rhyme from formed words,
Morph them alight in a soldiers grieve,
As I sit silhouetted, perfectly centered in the drowning sun,
My feet jiggle my eyes blink still,
My child walks in gardeners chasms,
Inside I play the show,
Candles wave me out, until my feet trip over the church,
And I find myself inside Jesus,
Scooting my eyes along the mounted breaths and the art of glass,
The heavy load of the heavens pressing on the scented candles
The mist of mourning, whispers sleep, the eye of the organ the bellow
of the
Bell

My church forms mausoleums from the mountains.
The chorus of nature chimes with the bluebells of mourning;
Worshiping the play of light and dark.
Balancing with the duality of truth,
Justice sings a dirge  only divinity can conjure.
The magick of serenity is an elemental bliss.
The lady rejoices with the eagerness of youth,
While he carries her burden in a shattered dream of useless vanity.
Stepping through the shadow into a cascading light...
They fall, hands clasped, on a bed of wilted roses,
And they collide in a union of faith.


My lady in the bee hive, collecting psalms in her fingertips,
My child bathing on wine lilies, in the cool stern faced pond,
An accordion plays inside a violin a clarinet makes a love beam,
Ventures of the willow to the water, her one lung and three eyes enter
the
gate,
Her vision wails the sound treks until it reaches the edge of a dark
beauties smiling toes,

Self inflicted perdition designed to incite the savage soul.
Markers of dandelion's glory etching perfect mutinous reveries.
She reclines on an ancient throne of painted antiquity.
Stoned hindrances of a butterfly's dancing wings.
Danger burns into the musical transients of hopeless fury;
Impotent urges lost on the selective masses of hypnotic grace.
Truth upon forked tongues of forgotten Gods of an ancient glory.
The Goddess twirls on the hands of her unexpected suitor…

Pictures on the Indians chest, spirit of the wilder sides,
The dimensions of vapor engraving inside each eyes world,
The slow sutra of all life, in a gallant stream of ripples, nature musk
and
all hope divine,
Thistles paving the wiggling moon ridden philosophy
The masks of serenity flip the ocean tides on open smiles,
We lived there in the tangles of vines and inferno hips

And so red bleeds to black on the miser's empty treasure
and the white rat graced the keeper of the God Stone
The Spirits of the elements forego ritualistic adoration
So Shakti worshiped a reluctant Shiva of tortured fate
Lovers of a metaphysical awakening fall prey to false hope.
She loved her King with charged undulations of sensual trysts
He exalted his Queen because life began and ended in her soul
And the black bled to red, and the union of two rejoiced.