red bushes

Bewildered and breathless
I stare into a stranger’s eyes:
My spirit shakes and quivers restless
Inside its confines
How could just one look
Be enough to send me tumbling?

Tumbling in a bush of red camellias
And prickling thorns.
A flash of fiery flame,
A bird’s frantically flapping wings.
And suddenly, quick as a spark
Going to its death in the dewy grass,
those eyes are gone ;

I am left alone
With bloody fingertips
Smeared with the crimson tears
I wiped from his cold cheeks.
I let myself dwell in the memory
And the exquisite melancholy
Of his raw eyes and brutal truths,
Words jagged and sharp
And a look so deadly
My veins still tremble in my wrists.

I cannot help but think
Those are the eyes of a god.
The god of lost wars and
excruciating sacrifice ;
Of long lost light
And tears shed twice.

I do not know him ; I never will
But today I felt his divine anger:
It was reaching out for me.
I seized it ;
Then unleashed it:
I poured it into a poem
like red spilled ink.