Haiku # 420

The autumn breeze
ruffles my solitude…
a heart filled with ache

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All the way to the end

When I am not with you
I grow morose
and no longer recognize myself.

But there was that night
that I discovered a hole in my heart,
and leapt into it.

The hole was deep and dark
and it felt as though
all the pain and emptiness
that tore through me
came rushing out of it.

I was afraid,
shivering to my bones,
and I stayed there for a long time
wondering if I should return or not
until I finally gathered my strength and jumped in,
and it was as if I was blind my whole life.

My eyes were opened
as if for the first time
and I realized that I was blind,
for I saw you everywhere
and wherever I went
I carried you with me.

I discovered that
when it comes to you
blood and bones and heart
are not fit enough metaphors
to describe your depth,
even the womb
that birthed time and the stars
is not deep enough
to give an intuition of your depth.

Whatever I will say about you
will not sound reasonable.
I am often amazed by it
let alone someone else.

Yet there you are
smiling at me and my foolishness,
at my trying to write a poem about you
and being clumsy at it.

I smile back and tell you
that my poetry is my way
of giving my life to over you,
celebrating a little of your beauty,
but you say that my life
is not mine for the giving,
that it has been forfeited long ago.

Now I sit before the setting sun
as the trees lose their leaves
and wonder –
what is a heartbeat without you?
Can a heartbeat be
without you at its source?
What is life if not a silken weave
in your hair?
What is life if not a dewdrop
rolling down your skin,
shaking as you walk
and fly and dance
and shaking us all with you,
shattering our world
in the unfolding of your beauty?

Now I understand
why love was so long denied to me
and why I had to beg and cry
for endless nights
and feel a pain so deep
and an isolation so harrowing.

You were there
and I had to live it and feel it
with a heart as open as can be.

Now I understand
and bless you
and kiss your hand,
and show for gratitude
my entire life,
the way it has been lived
and the way it will be.
A flower in your garden
all the way to the end.

Free Verse # 371 (she is the morning star)

Poetry
trying to describe you
stumbles and falls
into a pond of wine
and stays there, drunk,
until you smile
and again lift the blanket
and dawn.

~

Your kiss loosens my throat
and I sing like a bird
for the first time discovering
the sky at dawn;
your hand in mine
and my hips thaw
whirling into a dance
in the heart of the sun.

~

When the sun sets,
does it rise somewhere else ?
When my eyes close,
do they boom in your heart?
When my tears fall,
does the rose of your cheeks
shake in its dew?

~

I write poems to remember
the touch of your fingers
the color of your smile
when time was yet unborn
and you and I were one

~

What is it I want?
To touch you everywhere,
Everywhere at once.

~

All the silence in me
cannot touch her;
she is the morning star.

Wandering Thought # 37

A friend is someone who brings us back to ourselves whenever we drift, sometimes through a kind word, at times with a hard gesture. A friend remains close to us even when we think they’re far, that our pain and ache are incommunicable, even when we think we are abandoned by the world, left to meet the weight of everything on our own. A friend is someone who knows how to wait, when and how to administer the shot.