The True Vine

(Passion Flower Vine and Buds by David Saltaire)

Perhaps you are a mirror
for the poor and despised man
to show him the nobility
that he carries deep within

if he cares to see.

Perhaps you are a lover
of all the pitiless and blind
from your tower of open pain
measuring with telescopes

the mercy of the sky.

And maybe you are just
another wavering illusion
on horizons of parched sand
pulling along the hopeful

giving meaning to the void.

Perhaps you were drawn
from the bright nucleic acids
of our yearning to be something
more than mere survivors

on a cinder from a star.


Or, maybe
you just are.