Purpose In It All

The barren earth painted with desert sky,
a wide flat plain surrounded with mountains hovering high,
gave birth to a tortured soul
whose screams and cries would emanate from cold.

Through lungs aflame with the breath of life,
and a burning heart amid joy and strife,
the fighting and clawing to achieve a purpose,
love, frustration and bitterness became a surplus.

Wildflowers in an open field,
a haze that permeates the atmosphere,
sun rays prey upon the open plains,
clothed in wicked delight so sheer.

Puffs of smoke from a clear blue sky,
as the earth blows a breath of sex,
her body enveloped by the dirt,
facing all that would bring her vex.

A weeping moon and a smiling sun,
a blanket of grass, a covering of dust,
violet and orange paint a canvas sky,
the cracking and drying of the firm brittle crust.

A flower springs forth from a seedbed of rock,
a kiss from a lover whom I've yet to have known,
the caresses of the grains and the affections of hurt
Winter to Springtime, and Summer to Autumn.

Beauty and all that she is is in her,
twists of finality and pieces of eternity,
demons and angels collide in battle unseen,
wielding their cosmic war that none can glean.

Seeds are planted as time marches on,
tastes of seduction with desires unfulfilled,
upon a fertile soil filled with weeds and rocks,
a hardened ground with a need to be tilled.

Over the years, the ground has received seed,
taken in the rain and the sun with a hope to succeed,
and succeed she must for there's a purpose in it all,
one that will be worth it when she surrenders to the spirit call.