When inside your eyes, winter had passed,
blossoms of care would fall from your
heart to live in my searching soul;
The coccoon covered in cold white snow,
will breathe again when crisp flakes
melt to make room for the born-again;
And the touch of the sun from your heart
will warm me as an act of the care
you were born to feel in great extent -
The new-born love I’ve searched so long for.
From your skin I will pick peach blossoms
and apple blossoms will fall from your smile:
For me to catch and safely nurture
to become strong, fruitful with vitality;
Our search will end, beginnings will be lovely.
I will drown in pools of love’s blue eyes
to inhale a nature created again outside;
And as will be the spring of my soul like
love and passion blooming in beauty buds -
Our beginning as fresh and new as the world…
A CALLED OASIS
The essence of this life depends on what
you make of the sea, the desert apart;
The passion embraces me, as the waves’ grace
lifts me to a humanless figure, unbound being
that searches for the comfort of one eternity.
The raw sand brings us to a boil, silent heat;
Echoes dying, being absorbed by sand’s crust.
And the most sensitive soul shall speak
of God’s touch and His true nature creation:
No ocean of golden sand comes close to
the freedom of the Namib – the ultimate
in conceiving such exceptional salty-realizing;
Finally, the legens are noticed like the
salt of the earth, like God us have told…
But the passion, fervour of this unclear nature
brings us to a somehow naked breath in
the Lord’s destined search for salvation;
And her femininity prevails above masculinity,
touches that fade to bring one man and
the women of clear nature together in harmony…
SILENCE THE SPEAKER
The candle’s flame licks the transparent wax
in order to somehow rid itself of negativity
present in the air, the atmosphere surrounding it.
Emotions of yearning hang like thick clouds
from the ceiling, seeking to burst like bolts
of thunder and lightning through the smallest
exit it can find – or stay to grow and suffocate
me with raindrops of tears that already exist,
trails of sadness slowly choosing its own course:
Eyes like turquoise torches burning with longing.
Poetry read by candlelight inspires and fires
sobs from the heart to a tremble of lips;
The faint perfume smell lingers on a shirt worn,
a reminder of a woman held, love enfolded
in a circle of arms breathing harmony as music.
Crystal splints scatter from fragile glass dreams:
Ones of nights spent in togetherness of silence.
Quietness the speaker of a million words;
A vision of a smile drowns in the ocean’s sunsets
as it lingers for a few moments to disappear in me…
TAUNTING TONES
As light of day wanes,
an emotion lingers
with taunting tones.
Tenacious mental state
still intoxicated by
previous aversion:
Ill-fortune in love
a vexatious lure for
the one existence…
Attempts in retrospect
shines through and
reflect in the windows
of my deterring soul.
Contented in another
sense in this life,
yet never resisting
the entrance of a
pervious side…
A heart still proceeding,
not shrinking from a
space, a thought, a life
that was own to me -
and sometimes still,
my heart blench not,
but yearn nostalgically
for that other dimension
of taunting tones…
LIVING MIRACULOUSLY
A voracious appetite eats away to ultimately bring forth
born subjects from creativity’s mind, inspiration’s body;
Where fire and ice, lamb and lion blend perfectly
to form masterpieces beyond heavily evident mastery -
And passion submissive to its soulful counterpart.
Probability is the strong straw of the womb of time,
as are the seconds and hours of every day and vine
of living miraculously filled with scenic wonders
witnessed by the appreciating, artistic desirability;
Mending to a universal theme of noticed depth.
Softly being caressed by a hand higher than humanity,
simulating a feathered animal in brushes of ecstacy.
Prayers are the absolution that blind faithfully;
And rain is the soothing aid that wilfully comforts
when mind silence has fallen, retreated from inhalation…