Letter, December 18, 2015

Transient as the foam, along the trail of leaves I plant a few flowers and pass on my way, a hermit, a poet, a wanderer, a lover with no home but the sky of your face. Yet, long after I’m gone the flowers will burn still, season after season their flames whispering your name and fragrance amid the falling leaves. The hush of your breath on their fiery lips intoned like a prayer rising into the eternal sky. The bees will come to gather your nectar and in their honeycombs ferment the sweetest poetry. And long after I’m gone the earth will remember you as the sweetheart for whose sake a poet became the sky.

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2 thoughts on “Letter, December 18, 2015

  1. You reminded me of this poem: A Prayer That Will Be Answered
    by Anna Kamienska

    Lord let me suffer much
    and then die
    Let me walk through silence
    and leave nothing behind not even fear

    Make the world continue
    let the ocean kiss the sand just as before

    Let the grass stay green
    so that the frogs can hide in it

    so that someone can bury his face in it
    and sob out his love

    Make the day rise brightly
    as if there were no more pain

    And let my poem stand clear as a windowpane
    bumped by a bumblebee’s head

    translated from the Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanaugh

    Liked by 1 person

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