At the entrance
of the poem
I wait for you,
in my hand a vow
weaved
with the light of the moon.
~
O heart
what do I do with you?
I cast you
you come back,
I hold you
you turn away,
I wait for you
you fail to come,
O heart
always on the run.
~
In the morning
your voice comes to me
and I shake like a leaf
caught in the wind
~
A dash of salt and honey; a handful of poetry.
~
Always
a little ink in my blood
to paint the shadows
of the burning flowers
~
Woman brave enough to meet me
In the throbbing heart of poetry
~
This poetry,
a chalice we raise
and pour
over the world…
the moon at dawn.
~
Without a word uttered
our poems
conversed all night
in the light
of the stars and moon
~
The swift step
of your shadow
moving across my poem
blooming at dawn
~
I gaze into her face
and my eyes drift,
a bird flying
through a sea of fog,
and this flight
becomes my journey,
this journey becomes home.
~
What does it take
to make the poem dance?
A smile from her lips,
A gaze from her eyes.
~
Even after I die
some things will never change,
stars will shine,
waves will roll,
and my breath will seek yours
in the infinity of the sky.
~
Take me with you
on a gypsy kind of road,
from poem to poem
a life of wandering,
in our bag
the moon and stars,
and a kiss shared
like bread like wine,
a kiss shared
for the rest of our days.
~
Will you come? –
I am no longer sure;
like a poem standing
in its own grave,
all around me grows
the silence of the sky.
~
Softly softly
sway inside of me,
this gentle rub
the sigh of poetry.