By J Ann Crowder

I am neighbor to a towering temple in the distance, molded by lime stone and desert dust
It has enthralled my eye
A Superstitious monument hiding supernatural enchantments, billowing captivating, ancient folklore from her lungs
Sometimes I see her ghostly existence within an Apache woman’s haunting past
Apache woman crys, her tears pounding lichen clay
They freeze into pale, black stones, becoming seers for our futures
Love is like these Mountains, concealing magical truths
Stories are eternal in these Mountains, like love is eternal in our hearts
Alas, love abides in stories of eternal troves
Like stems of flowers weaving petals; mysteries abide therein
Each petal is an omen riding on a wishing star
Love is as unknown as these Mountains
Yet, silently whispers our sacred yearnings
Such secrets unravel as serpents uncoiling beneath a firery Phoenix
And so love’s warmth teaches us what our minds long to touch

Love is most talked about and least understood for its mysteries. Written March 17, 2016.

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Robert L. Martin
about 5 years

Love sure is a mystery, how it comes and grabs a hold of us and takes us on a journey to the unknown. I love your poem, Jenifer

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