Princess

I wait without knowing
what I am waiting for,
or even that I wait.
I move through the days as if
walking in a garden of
fragile pulsing petals
I have grown from specks of
seed, harvesting their snow
and amethyst with my eyes.
Suddenly I look up:
something has changed, a presence
has entered my world,
which fits together in
a new way. Spring light shrives me,
plants longings deep in
the garden of my body.
I travel through chamber
within chamber of my heart
till I come to the last one
where a single red rose
waits, sculptured in light,
between bud and full flower.