You tether your soul
To the heaviest rock,
To the deepest isle
Where your thoughts reach
Into the bottomless pit
Where miles of darkness
Hide the light from your sight.
But if you let me,
I can show you how
To use your soul as an anchor,
Letting it sink into that
Beautiful light on the other surface
Of the ocean.
A tender seasonal gust of leaves
Scoops my dreams up
And rush them through the ajar window.
A fine-toothed comb
Brushes through my knotted thoughts.
It is as though the morning is left
Sitting, half asleep, out there
On one of the distant isles with nothing
But a lighthouse to keep it
From leaning back into the darkness
Of the pre-autumnal night.
This is the heart of melancholy;
A wistful longing, a vague memory of safe harbor,
Scraped away by the rawness of beautiful sunny days.
A dream with one leg rooted in summer pasture
And one leg winged by the mystery of night.
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
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.