Early summer morning,
Young sunrise above the sea.
Where his shadow falls
Over the grass I plant my life
Like a cluster of moss
Afloat on wind-stirred sea,
Flushing without roots,
Weirdly softening when the edges
Of his silhouette leans against
My empty handed longing.
Like the sea:
A distant cry
Deep in my land-bound heart.
Like the wind:
through sea grass
Swaying in the blue fog
Of years gone by.
through frail memories:
A spring twig in the hands
of a wood cutter
Or a white stream of aurora
In the currents of the Milky Way.
You were left naked among stars,
Thorns of light like hoarfrost
Piercing the blue foliage of sea,
Making the sun bleed out
In the silence of farewelling screams.
In all this, the madness of the heart,
You were the beached ice berg
Shining green with coral rivers
Just like the days of my childhood
When the stream was too long
For darkness to fall,
Melancholy has lived in me,
With Its moss and grey rocks.
I’ve hurried slowly towards the peaks
Where the sun rise against the cold
And Nightshimmer drift on the kneeling hills.
Only to whisper loudly in the frail dark
Of longings and memories
That were not my own.
The cotton grass reaches
To drink the remains of the day.
The old and spent sky pales
In the translucent belated dusk.
You slip your hand into mine
And the softness of folded wings
Spans across my veins,
Coloring blue valleys sunset red.
I taught the wind to laugh,
To walk quietly passed your door,
Scattering green leaves to remind you
I wrote my name in the dew on your window,
Waiting for your heart to remember
The language of the wind
And the muscles in your wings.
You made me the iconographer
Of your dreams
Tagging my hallways with your
You pooled my shallow waters,
Mapping scavenger hunts
To trick me into looking for you,
Only to leave me
Capsized in the black tar
Of your expectations.