#103

Rare is the love

that knows no past tense

sometimes just sleeping

like spring 'neath winter's ground.

#102

es herbstet
an allen zweigen
lauert der fall

in den kronen
grün der erinnerung
träumt noch etwas sommer

im wind weicht das licht
lauschen die ohren der dämmerung

wohin flogst du,
einsame schwalbe?

autumnal dusk

misty light over the autumn lake

sun of melancholy abiding behind cloth of sky

a reddened leaf in tender touch of water's skin

adrift in soft chime of the piano's flight

into a blurred horizon of snow's whirling flakes

where forest's dreams abide in sight of moon

born from a sea of crimson and lavender

where faeries in the purest white

of angel wings outpour from lily's chalice 

water from holy spring, 

wine of your love.

(for D.)