Night Blooming Jasmine

In this house of ghosts, bloom for me,
Bloom, as the night wind swirls
A bittersweet scent amidst ruins.

Crush your memories, brittle with time,
Forget those who once sang a river of longing,
Mourning their unmarked days.

Unclasp the tattered shroud, seek flesh.
Let this stone crumble beneath the holy touch,
Let skin find joy in darkness.

Let your heart surge and flower, shatter silence
This echo of empty rooms, filled
With hollow voices urgent, despairing.

The walls are songless now, muted and frail,
Only the jasmine is real, pleading,
Soft green tendrils, luminous petals,
Begging you to run, flee, bloom, sing
Scatter your fragrance into a world, any world, and love.

© J.L.Stanley