Raindrops in the Heart

The wine is tasteless, were it not for the lips that drink,
The roses colourless, were it not for the eyes that paint,
The spirits empty, were it not for the bodies that yearn,
And the sun cold, were it for the lovers running the open planes.

Life plays not in the open air,
The world unfolds not on the universe’s stage,
They play and unfold in the heart and soul of human desire.

Adieu, Wise Friend

O wise man, I bid thee farewell,
My sail is cast, the winds compel.
Your staff for long my steps did guide,
Gave me home in this ocean wide.
My tears resting within my palm,
Rippled your face, lucid and calm.

When the wolves prowled through the town’s dark,
You gave me shield, a light to hark.
When bitter scorn from their eyes fled,
To the strength within your words led.
When luring looks the circus spoke,
Your eyes kept strong, firm as an oak.

The parting of mother and child
Trembles the heart with a beat wild,
And yet, part they must and set free
The bond that breathed wide as the sea.
Mayhap again their ships one day
Shall meet and walk along the way.

For now,

O wise man, I bid thee farewell,
My sail is cast, the winds compel.

Flowers of Eternity

A fertile soil your heart does hold
For a flower inside to blossom and glow,
Nurture it and water it with special care
For the scent of such purity heightens my soul.

Once intoxicated new awareness I gain,
From here on in life a new taste I crave,
A seed from your heart to plant in mine
And find out now what colours it will show.

Strange, a brief moment before the morning sun
Might light your life for the rest of your days,
A little taste of immortality our flowers do hold
For here we remain, even when we are no more.

Midnight Lamp

Oh my sad heart, where will you sleep?
No roof or shade your head to keep
From sun or rain, from wind or frost,
You roam the streets with your face lost,
And you search! In your eyes I see,
You search for her whose face is free
From veils that shy the sun and moon,
From words that sneer at night’s calm tune,
For her whose eyes are sky and sea
A pool of deep profundity,
For her whose hair a river flows
On shoulders white as winter snows,
For her whose hand, a wave and breeze,
Stroking the leaves with tender ease,
For her whose belly grows a tree
Lush with flowers for bird and bee,
You search and your cry rises clear
Falls amid ghosts whose souls don’t hear,
Yet by your door a lamp you keep
For a roamer whose soul might creep.