The Lovers Returned Alive

Citrusicity, unannounced, with zest that captivated the tantalized, reached its zenith with the Sun's departure, suddenly finding it self in some doomed romance with the night: the road, which was hardly a road, but some sketching of a wild entities wrought with wondrous intent to swallow the world whole, was sprawled with flowers indecent to heavy hearts, with flowers that were born of the pulse that lifted rather than denied, that charmed jaded souls--

"I am not alive," she send so tender, with face that made palpable the unseen things that Gods can see and resolve but what he could see and left him quaking. Her eyes glistened with the body's helplessness, her soul longing for some song to sing, but her will... "I am not alive,"

He took his hands to her palid hands and took his eyes, like telescopes, and gazed deeply at his love, beholding an absence, not a presence, a tragic dimming of her heavens, a sordid discord of loveless darkness.

He breathed deeply, locking hands with hers and bring them both to rise and he brimmed a smile and announced, "I am not afraid."

He kissed her, then ran out in bolted dash.

The road, which was hardly a road, was now his reckoning. All the ecstatic flowers pulsed with their songs of wonder, yet he knew of only one necessary.

Beyond the lush verdance he journeyed forty days to the looming heart of the Desert, wherein a giant Joshua Tree stood, bearing the waters of what was once a mighty ocean, beneath it, a bed of roses that stammered the desert floor in such a rich abundance, their colours never static--a rise in power swept through the petals, then a wain of despair--like fire to ember to a vivid glow to a fade and dearth.

He stared, entranced, his breath giving rise, his exhales pushing forward the looms--his journey arduous, he clapped his hands within the tranquil scape--echelons of mountains in the far distance that pierced the sky--mountains with teal and turquoise manes that sought the sun's bestow every sunset, made such a noise insignificant, yet it was not their attention he sought.

"Oh Joshua Tree,

your materials persevere

through sequestered joys

your daunting epiphanies--

bestow the wisdom

of your everlast

for that my love may persevere

from her drought of soul!"

The roses flushed with orange haze--to which vapid waves of revered red tapered.

"IN ABUNDANCE FEW MAY EVER KNOW

WHAT THE TRUE SOURCE OF OUR REPLENISH LIES

BUT I HAVE STOOD AND SEEN MANY CYCLES

AND HAVE STOOD FOR A THOUSAND YEARS

WITHOUT A DROP OF RAIN--

I HAVE WITNESSED A FLOOD THAT LASTED

100 DAYS, AND I HAVE LISTENED TO THE SKIES

WITH MUCH LOVE AND STOOD ATTENTIVE FOR SO

LONG THAT NOW...

RETURN TO YOUR LOVE AND BRING HER TO ME

I HAVE NOT WISDOM THAT CAN BE MERELY PASSED

SHE MUST STAND BEFORE ME

YOU BOTH MUST STAND BEFORE ME

AND I WILL SHOW YOU MY SECRETS!"

And so he returned to his love where she layed, still catatonic, still staggered, still damned, to which he carried her for another 40 nights and brought her before The Great Joshua Tree.

"BEHOLD."

A bolt of lightning struck from the sky, to which began its slow descent into an opaque wonder, thick clouds of dark ornate began to fold and it began to pour a mighty rain that ran down his loves face, but her face was filled with awe, now, for in the Joshua Tree's patient love, the sky taught unto him her secrets, and he became an intercessor for the rain.

"ONLY THOSE WHO SEE THE WORLD

THROUGH LOVING EYES

WILL BE WELCOMED INTO HER SECRETS,

SO ARISE IN LOVE

TO COME ALIVE, FOR, TRULY

WHERE DOES THE WORLD END

AND YOU BEGIN? ARISE!"

The lovers knew, then, what lied beyond such semblance of joy, such temperance of pleasure, beyond a season of rain to which the flowers bloom, within the scape of arid desert to which the Joshua Tree stood fervent, an intercessor of the highest ecstasies and tragedies.

The Lovers Returned Alive.