This is a day of sun kissed stone and blustery winds
of wild geese adorning river banks
their graceful necks and gilded feathers remind
me that I am nothing more than a bystander
in this enchanted world where graceful oaks
reach across slanted waves to weightless clouds
dipping my fingers into green and amber circlets
I hold my reflection in cupped hands.
My words are
flames meant to melt the
frozen chalice that is your heart.
In the white night across the continents
we feel but never touch.
Too sacred for light we set the night on fire
Profane infinity too flawed to alter fate.
While I was thinking of you a fledgling
fell to earth
swooped up by the wind on her
passage to life
während ich an dich dachte
Manchmal fühle ich meine Worte
als lodernde Flamme, die schmilzt den Kelch deines goldenen Herzens. Geborgenheit liegt in der Stille, wenn wir die Kontinente durchqueren. Wir fühlen uns, doch berühren uns nicht, lassen den Mond uns verschlingen, setzen die Nacht in Brand, zu heilig fürs Licht. In deiner Gegenwart bin ich weltlich am heiligen Himmel, eine Blasphemie aus Fehlern, zu gering, das Schicksal zu ändern. Während ich an dich dachte, fiel ein junger Vogel nieder auf die Erde, Wind rettete ihn auf dem Weg ins Leben.
(Deutsch von Hutschi)
In my infinite smallness
looking out over the ocean
my limbs are albino snakes
basking in the sun and the heat
burns the soles of my feet
A treasure of pearls are strewn
like stardust on the shore
and a garland of lilac is tied
to nothing but my hand.
I am the universe lending life
to silent rock as the sun streams
down my throat where there is no voice.
The laughter of children rings
through honeyed coves where lost
lovers await the tide to
tumble them into the light.
Below my feet lies a carpet of
Jacaranda and my empty hands
carry no burden but love.
From the window
as quiet as as a river I can watch
the moon shiver in the breeze
through the fronds of palm trees.
Hibiscus wave like children
their mouths move silently,
hands of garland reach out to
I am grateful for the sweet
drape of your eyes that like
fluttering wings of birds lift
the shawl of darkness where in
the light prismatic butterflies
breach their chrysalis and
vanish in the arching sky.
These are the riches
the golden sunlight passing through us.
The sun has lost its domain
snow birds shroud the light
A handful of starlings quiver on
bare branches so fragile in fixed feathers
they could fit in the palm of a hand.
Suspended in frozen breath they sing
for the reach of an outstretched hand
clinging to a red-tailed kite floating
above snowy fields of wildflowers in full bloom.
wheeling jagged edges
above the shallows
of a rough Dover sea
I am a lone bird.
My feathers gleam in the beacon of
the lighthouse where gentle swells
pulse against rocky shores
where you held me tenderly
like a treasured pearl.
We’ve abandoned the lighthouse
that seems to lean closer to the sea
waiting in vain at the tide swept shore.
The beam has ceased its search,
still each time I pass I tip my wing.
cover the sky with your hand
the summit of your palm is the moon.
Your fingers are streams of stardust
sweeping across ancient dunes
or the slender branches of willows
gliding through desert sand
soft and sediment.
Your words sting like bees that linger
thawing like ice on your tongue.
The heart of every woman you have
loved lives inside me
the cracking bones of beating wings
resounding against fixed walls
whispers of moments come and gone.
Recall my eyes as time,
you have lived here a thousand years
In the mist of dreams
the touch of your skin is tinder igniting a flare becoming a flame. Your eyes seek out the savage in me. Here we are still lovers and like starving animals we devour each other with weak bites never completely consuming one another.
Nights while you sleep
my lips are so close I can
draw your breath in like an
infant at its mother’s breast.
I run my fingers down the curve
of your spine lean in to breathe
your smokey scent.
I have entered that golden part of you
immersed the sea that claimed me in
oceans of fiery sunsets.
When our hearts grow mute we will know
we have drifted too near the sun
art by Karol Bak