#220

night at the coast

wind from the sea

passing the cherry tree

blooming for some short springtide

my gaze roams darkened depths

widespread without a shore

unfathomable unknown

beneath the starless dome

only in farthest haze

remains a lighthouse faint

remembrance of her smile

in a cherry blossom garden.

(for D.)

on the verge of spring

 

dream

we are living on an island

beyond the confines of this world

lush and green and peaceful

where the streams flow ceaselessly

translucent wavelets turning sunlight

into jade, copper, aquamarine

spilling into pools

of quiet reverie at day

and elvish giggles during night

the moon, born from the sea

silently watches over crest and vale

over the peace of dreams and creatures

filling our days with harmony

vespertine breezes waft in sighs

and rains fall only softly

into the whispers of the sea

in gleaming rhythm on our sunset beach. 

#217

quiet is the night
when the eyes of each home dimmed
when on the fir-clad valley's ground

the dark stream lies in slumber

rare is the night

when the snow drifts in a soundless flight

when a gentle hand sows feathers

on earth's countenance

deep are the dreams

in which the frozen ponds immerse

spun in a silk of crystal moonlight

woven in elvish lands

sweet is the dawn

when a golden sun awakes

into a peaceful pristine morn.

winter (2)

beneath the snow, a flower

dreaming a mirthful spring

beyond the clouds, a star

shining from deep within.

flame

 

some say

sunset is only light

in colours purple, red and tangerine

melting the sky into the sea

weaving a dream into our soul

so that at night a star will flourish

some say

that light is transitory

a firefly in a blink

but i know of spring

of life's eternal cycle

of the radiance in your soul —

that you too are light.

(for D.)

winter

bearing these dull days
when clouds conceal the light
last brittle leaves cling to dried twigs

at night the vantablack
of silence between cold stars
reflected in a void of snow

the wells lie frozen
beneath the shadowed forest
holding the weight of winter in its branches

only from deep within
a light sings from lost summer
of flowers unfading upon tender grass.

the melancholy gold of autumn

when the last leaf has fallen

summer becomes

a memory only.

#212

 inside a cloth of clouds

the moon conceals herself

soft snow of tiny stars

falls gently in his calyx

the roots still blooming

beneath the autumn's foliage.

(for D.)

#211

there is no end to love

which is molten into veins of earth

which glistens even on a forlorn river

which falls and unfurls in life's circle

which lives in dreams of long ago

there is no end to love

which abides silently in frost

to await the kiss of a new spring sun

which dwells in sacred halls

as long as sunsets burn.

(for D.)

gossamer

the evening sinks
deep purple into darkening sea

from where the breeze brings on

the scent of coloured skies

this window to a world beyond

the confines of a blurred horizon

whither a dream and longing flow

like flocks of tangerine clouds

at night a shimmer permeates

the space between the stars

a tender gossamer of silver

of threads silent yet firm.

(for D.)

#207

interwoven with the fabric of the night

is the path of a sacred moon

blooming in ethereal meadows

where our soul keeps wandering

a bee immersed in sweet scent

wafting from the vast sea.

(for D.)

last days of summer

all golden glows the sun

over grazed pastures

into the oaken grove

where the acorns fall

ripe with foreboding

all peaceful the evening

when the sunrays fade

into the chill from a vale

slowly creeping

into lengthening shadows

the night will grow long and dark

when birdsong is hushing

in a mist of lost light.

#205

we are two leaves
fallen from different branches

of the same tree
glowing golden in autumn light
adrift in the stream of lostness.

(for D.)

#204

be safely cradled in heart cushions

dew-petaled cornflower

soft-mossed intimacy

searched by the gentle rain

craved by the restless wind

skimming the ripening fields.

(for D.)

gratitude

when your moon is rising in my sky
— for a moment
the world holds its breath
and the sea's blue heart skips a beat

then the wavelets
carry your light to the bay
the small bay where a yearning
entangles in the dark green of pines
sighing in nocturnal breeze

your rays find the rocky ground
where a flock of blue flowers
sway into tender dreams.


(for D.)

how hope dies

hope does not die
by violence
of a bullet, blade or a word
pushing it over the edge of a cliff

sometimes it fades slowly
like the life of a wasp
tired of flying over and over
against a glass wall.

#201

if i were moon

and watched you

through the window, sleeping

i'd smile and ask a benign wind

to carry from the farthest shore

a rain of cherry petals to your dreams.

(for D.)

sediments

if we became sediments only
long after the waves have calmed

know
that the moon has poured
a thousand nights into crystals
preserving the light
treasured in the depth of the sea.


(for D.)

moonrise

at the hour when dreams awake

the truthful moon is soaring

from the ocean dark and quiet

into an air of amethyst embers

flower and fruit of night

illuming what stays true

in darkened stillness

flowing in wavelets to the shore

may in this hour of contemplation

your eye meet in her face with mine

growing a flower in the sky

beacon for timeless seasons.

(for D.)