Cantos: Cultivation Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Cantos - here I find you
Spangled like the sea
The finery of the phosphorescent sand
Lurks upon your skin
There planted within the proximities
The bending inflorescence
Of the foliage rustling in the stifle
Of the air with a strife -
I can hear the trees
Choke in the amour of the wind's
Tacit coil, languid howl - moonlight kiss
Way away into desolation.

This is where you
Are cultivated - a gold-bequeathing
As the Sun's paltry signs
The resignation of the tepid sea;
The cynosure, you are there
As you blanch the lands with the
Siphon's thievery: you are
The only flower that blossoms alight.
I found you here, ensconced perfectly
Until acquainted to the dusk that
Longs to see the god's sculpting -
A picturesque replica of the seraphs;
Alas, even the saints are jealous of you.
In here, you are cultivated
Like the constellations,
Stars and flaming ire.

The trees rustle in each canto,
And here you are the phantom
Of my night's sanguinity:
Haunt me, cultivated specter;
In the dark, in the lightness of being
Even the expanse of the shores
Long to see how you
Sprawl endlessly under the same
Infinite sky