Painting by Vladimir Volegov

Under the red wild rose stays

a force, a secret never told,

expanding my sealed ways

as life and death unfold.

Venus and Isis cried alone,

Adonis and Osiris were dead.

For whom should I now moan,

recalling the red roses that bled?

Down on my swollen knees,

a white rose I gently hold,

hiding behind the shy trees

being both divine and old.

Sacredness is transmutation,

a garden of roses lies within

for the mystery is a celebration

of what has always been.

Let the five-petaled roses bloom.

In red and white they shall marry,

perfuming my heart in this room

as long as the secret they carry.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012

As I lie where your shadow

watches my deserted heart,

the jealous sky flows toward me,

blessing my divine desire,

enchanting me with those unapparent clouds

you painted when love

was the verb that caught fire.

Lost in my endless days,

I enter life again, uncertain of all,

dreaming and being destroyed

by the storms of July

as I see my withered flowers blooming

just for my eyes while sorrow does fall.

Love is beauty itself that lives,

it is a miracle I can't escape.

I am immaculate now

and something in my blood owns

the universe.

Here neither reason can be conceived

nor knowledge can explain why

I read the roses while I listen to

my heart's delight.

Here eternity holds the night.

I go by the windy street,

pushing back time, touching your soul

with my soft fingers, thinking about

what lies beyond you and me

as your presence crosses across my brain,

stealing my heart away, filling my empty body

with love and delicate air.

Here wolves and eagles sigh on my serene canvas.

Here stars and stones whisper

for love needs no words.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2011