My longings died for the youth
beautiful bodies aged and with
roses by the head, jasmine at the feet
time did not save anyone, longing passed
like the words of the dead, who lived
in the presence of sensual pleasures
so fleeting, temporary, the vivid aches
but radiant mornings drove us on
the timid imaginations of a lifetime
in blood flesh and hot striving for survival
exalted young sensualists have to become
something else, mystical longings
that have a difficulty defining the goal
a forbidden ecstasy of meditation otherworldly
where synapse kisses the universe
my longings died past mid-life
the beautiful angels did not age
the spirit would never die
love’s height lifted above a person
we would become separated forever
Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/autumn-408633691
Wuji Seshat 