Perhaps ...
I was once a Prince
heir to a garden
where flowers spoke of seasons
and the trees faced the Sun
maybe ...
I became a King
who held hands with Angels
shone the secrets of the stars
their pages woven within
my circular language
of blended senses
uncounted saint
I have the holy books
in my pocket
next to a stone
I listened to the wise ones
nod , and then look away
and learned from a sage
where truth burned within her eyes
I bare this heart
copyright 2013 Robin Christopher Amaral