Poetry Inspired by the Perfume Oud Luban from Aftelier.
I combed the earth To find a cure for my wounds [I am the broken hearted-man]. I roamed past The lign aloes [planted by God], And the giant cedars Reaching to heaven. Nothing could ease my pain; Neither khus oil, Nor the fruit of the goodly tree Could return my joy. I prayed for a sign. . . . . .for a miracle. . . But I came to the Boswella tree and swung my axe in faith, As incense swings through the air [while smoke ascends like a prayer]. And where blade met bark, From there’s came the healing milk, And so the mending Of a broken heart.
Poetry Inspired by the Perfume Secret Garden from Aftelier.
I lived a secret garden, Where I could feel liberally. My heart was soft and sweet – Well rounded and strongly. My soul was in full bloom Like a jasmine vine Decorated in an array Of small, delicate flowers.
I was not unlike The beasts of the earth, Who feel purely, innocently Covered from judgement. In my mind and emotions, My soul was strong, well rooted And fragrant-like, Like the Rosewoods of Brazil.
But the seasons changed. Feelings and thoughts Strange to me Immersed my bewildered mind – Muddled me – Restless & uncertain. They left me trying to manage – to dictate – my delicate senses.
But feelings are a garden.
[And all gardens need tending. Feelings grow as they may, But nourish them With good water – Good sun – Good soil – And pray their fruit grows sweetly].