For Pablo

When I came for you
I was not searching.
Wild and beautiful your
lids heavy with desire
I sipped Santiago raindrops
from your tongue  and
salt-rose tears fell from
my eyes.
At the hour of  departure my heart
became a dying bird with
wide wings unfastened and open.
”unfastened and open” from Pablo Neruda’s poem “A Night On the Island”
A Night on the Island
by Pablo Neruda
I have slept with you
and on waking, your mouth,
come from your dream,
gave me the taste of earth,
of sea water, of seaweed,
of the depths of your life,
and I received your kiss
moistened by the dawn
as if it came to me
from the sea that surrounds us.

forest song

Alone here,
I can hear the chatter of anxious birds. The wind and rain have shredded their nests. A sudden flight of wings fill wispy petals of clouds passing over.
Wandering further beneath the tall pines I hear their creaking branches stretch like old bones. Needing to be heard, the brittle crunch of leaves beneath my feet make their sound.
A White tail deer watches warily from a grassy knoll, his majestic antlers in silhouette against the splintered rays of sunset. My breath is but a whisper in this sacred place that offers everything and asks for nothing.

fantasy-forest.jpg

art by Lazada Philipine

Song of Seasons

Hold me in  fleeting hours

while we are beautiful and wild

winged creatures drinking from the

night  as honeysuckle

is sustained by the  sun and rain.

Stay  when summer departs and the

garden sips at tears pooled in

the irides of  our eyes.

Lie down with me in winter when the

birds hold their song

tiny skeletons of  hollow bone

indifferent to the cold.

For you my lips are   petals

reminders  of lost flowers.

If  you do not return

but fly on  to distant gardens

my body will seek shelter

beneath the feathers of tongueless birds.

House of Heart

Song of seasons

Halt mich fest in flüchtigen Stunden
den schönen und wilden,
unser Fleisch ist voll und reif, geflügelte Wesen
saugen die Nacht auf, Jelängerjelieber,
die von Sonne und den Regen gespeiste.
Bleib, wenn der Sommer vergeht und der
Garten vom Lächeln nippt,
das aus der Iris deiner Augen blitzt.
Lieg bei mir im Winter, wenn die
Vögel zu singen einhalten,
winzige Skelette aus hohlen Knochen,
gleichgültig der Kälte gegenüber.
Für dich sind meine Lippen Blütenblätter,
süße Erinnerungen an verlorene Blumen.
Wenn du nicht zurückkehrst
sondern weiterfliegs, wird mein Körper Schutz suchen
unter den Flügeln zungenloser Vögel.
translated by Bernd Huschenreuther

canadianbeauty