renaissance

spring has arrived

in this part of the world

rejoice, o heart:

sun's love was only sleeping.

#172

my body is not with you

yet my longing weaves flowers around your soul.

(for D.)

silver (ii)

even after dusk

the stream is filled with silver

taking it from the source

all through the sleeping world

to meadows green with spring

through summer's wistful fields

down to the strands of sea,

lighting my mermaid's mirror.

(for D.)

silver

days pass

as drifting clouds before the sun

your light turns ocean fields to silver

turns windswept meadows into waving seas

who keeps a wave

who captures wind

who ever holds the light

but sea-deep hearts.

(for D.)

o wind

wind, o wind

you carry songs across the sea

laden with sandalwood and salt

and memories sailing with starlight

wind, o wind

waves dance in mirth beneath your breath

fill them with longing for a distant shore

and tenderness for winter beaches

wind, o wind

restlessly wandering with flocks of clouds

grazing immensity and black rock isles

swept by the albatros' winged elegance

wind, o wind

you once held sunset in your hands

reflected in her ocean gaze

you once entangled in the fringes of her skirt

between smiles golden and a silver tear

wind, o wind —

may in a blissful hour

from dappling sea in flowering eventide

your grace send me a petal

from her elysian garden.

(for D.)

#168

i let you go
those parts that were not meant to stay —
the soul is a slow traveller
dwelling on sunset's fading hues

...

only in dreams
from shadows of the forest still
emerges a faint light into the glade
a wafting fay, frail as a moonlit haze
gleaming into the forlorn night

a star shines fairly on her forehead
beckons to shores of eventide
falling in soft waves over calming seas
where sailless boats stay moored in peace
where the moon finds haven
in lavender skies.


(for D.)

#167

hanging our branches low

confiding them to flow of life

the river's permanence in motion

suffused by light of summers never passing.

let go

let go

let go

.

.

.

.

#165

although you say

you cannot be with me

in skin and spirit

you always are

your moon has its own sky.

(for D.)

flowing

your silence,

colourful leaves

adrift on time's quiet river

your silence,

familiar moon reflection

on heart's gem-glinting depths

my soul,

with willow branches

caressing dark still waters.

(for D.)

maybe one day

maybe too
once in a while
you think of me

maybe even
in some far blue hour
when the world becomes serenely quiet
when the depth of sky sinks into heart
when horizon's light gleams in your fibres

maybe then
by blissful chance the newborn moon
stands as a beacon in your sea of eye
stands as a fruit of transit between worlds

and once again her bark of sweet
carries our gazes in one wave of heart.


(for D.)

autumn (vi)

here is again this time of year
when trees glow in a robe of gold
when passing pours its flask of wine
over the ripened fields

the eye sinks deep into a cobalt sky
where shards of summer clouds
melt into haze in darkening west
like footsteps lost in sea

this is again the time of life
where shadows lengthen, creeping cold
from careless heights standing against
the paling evening light

a mist enshrouds the outer world
where pathways lead into a nowhere
a wall of stillness from a blinding light
a leaf relinquished as the only colour.

dream

This night brought you into my dream again. You were near yet unattainable, a wafting presence.

#160

for eons my soul will search you

for the star-spangled sky in your eyes

the quiet depth of your being

and the tenderness of your smile

for this that is woven in you and me

to the confines of this world.

(for D.)

you

you, the quiet one

who went into my being

like a tiny beautiful star

slowly unfolding in dusk's fading light

but essential to the sky's wholeness

you, the quiet one

slowly filling the sea with silver

fallen from wings of ethereal heralds

into the eye of a truthful heart

you, beloved one

slowly growing into my forest

flowering in the tips of the roots.

(for D.)

honey

i could be the bee
visiting your flower

in the light of honey
nesting among the wood's pillars,
amid the soft sound of rain
bathing your petals
with tender care

your pollen were my ambrosia
a load of fine silver
gathered from gossamer threads
in the stillness of dawn

i would be the bee
curling in your flower
holding hands with your roots
as you hold my wings

i would be the bee
returning to the comb and your flower
a taste of moonlight
in my flight


(for D.)

#157

Love anyways, even if she would be gone.

Believe that an eternal flower will somewhere grow deep in her forest, small but enduring, guarded by trees with roots in the ancient days, like elanor and niphredil on the glades of Lórien.

stillness, wide open

the eye roams far

over a land

opening wide as the dome of blue

arching above us

honey-coloured stubbly fields

undulating song of earth

where the corn danced in slow waves

beneath soft summer breeze

lines of almond trees

guarding walls of drystones

beat by the sun, passed by the wind of time

like the life within their confines

stillness spreads inside

from the blue haze of mountains,

the silken flowing of evening gold,

nature's quiet and serene persistance,

from your light in the tangerine sky.

at the shore

we would linger at the shore of the ocean

on the line where the elements meet

in their strife around, for each other

and their yearning to become one

waves nag at the rock foaming white

in the thunderbolt of the surge

licking salt, tasting earth and the fragrance

of unfurling flowers dusted with spray

the wind sends a scent of the dancing sea

dark beneath glistening silver gems

from the stream of a blooming sky

reigned by the diadem of the moon

surf becomes fire

in our boat in the sea

we watch the stars falling

one by one.

(for D.)

#154

my heart the ocean

tending your moonlit isle

waves' gentle fingers

keep reaching for your shore

veiled by lavender haze

linger ambrosia's sources.

(for D.)