Haiku # 645

Birthday cake…
Cutting them alone
the rest of my years

~

Le soleil de sa peau…
Dans l’ombre de ses branches
butinent mes poèmes

~

Last days of summer…
In the cry of birds
the shiver of coming rain

~

الكلمات في حلقي
شاخت ولم تسمعها
المرأة التي أحببت

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When Sadness Comes

When sadness comes
sit with her, invite her over
to a cup of tea or coffee,
or maybe just a little wine,
resist your urge to escape from her
by drowning her in some frantic activity,
and rather hold her gently
like you would your beloved wife,
drown in her eyes
all your sorrows, fears and anxieties,
tell her what she already knows,
your insomnias and terrors
before a life devoid of affection, meaning or completion.

When sadness comes
sit with her, though she thumps
against your chest
like a wild horse being tamed,
gather up your strength and tell her
all that the harsh tides of life
have washed up inside your heart,
or just sit with her, in silence,
reading a book or listening
to a bird singing happy and unaware.

When sadness comes
smile back to her, sadly,
and offer her the dark rose
of that void pulsing in your chest,
and watch her take it, gladly,
placing it delicately
in her wildly waving hair.

When sadness comes
welcome her, that lifelong friend
loyal to a fold and intimate and tender,
and know that all she asks of you
is for you to tame her
so that one day she may begin to tell you
all the reasons for which
she is your promise of love.

Letter, August 03, 2019

Long after you were gone I still went to bed with your ghost every night, making love to nothing more than a memory, to my need for you, to all the ways in which I dreamed you and constructed you in my mind. I fashioned you out of light and poetry, out of pure passion, an unreal being that I now had to let go, to let you fly and vanish amid the turning stars. Now I let you go and deepen in this longing turning like a universe at the center of my heart.