Thursday 29 October 2015

I dream of the mountain & its gift of fire

All the light of the Caucasus falls on your body
as though into a little vase of glass, infinite,
where the water transforms itself, by dressing, by singing
at every transparent move of the river.

‘Through the mountains you pass like the breeze’

XVIII  From: ‘Cien sonetos de amor’

- Pablo Neruda

I dream of it
like an arrow of wild fragrance
drowning the autumn air
with stains of spring's first awakening
pushing, forming 
it arrives not as raindrops slowly 
trickling but sudden piercing flash 
of thunderstorm
pouring like honey
all the light of the Caucasus falls on your body

dusty golden, you are dawn
unpetaled, blazing 
rising above mountains, weaving the earth
with new watercolors
I dream of it
like symphony's 
unbroken melody
recochetting between our bones 
intimate as thinnest filament
as though into a little vase of glass, infinite,

love, with its immeasurable weight of sea,
is sailing through all the continents
seeking you
seeking me and all my words
fragmented as lost diamonds   
I wait between harvests, spinning
music on this wet earth
I dream of it 
like silkworm cocoons, of beginnings
where the water transforms itself, by dressing, by singing

through every season
flamboyant and effervescent 
on my lips, cinnamon wine
on my skin, burning kisses
I dream of this
under the night sky as it shimmers
electric purple
ringed pregnant with silence 
your every memory stabs the darkness deep that I shiver
at every transparent move of the river.


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight, Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg ~  
Attempted to do a glosa (draft) ~ Join us starting at 3pm EST ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Thursday 15 October 2015

If I should forget

Turn me towards the sea
Where nacre of morning is pure ivory

Kiss me with your liquid tongue,
with your words, a whirlwind's blue fire

I trace the gull's ancient flight
nadir to where you are, map of thousand islands,

sweet bread of corn, a journey's home
All the trees will be fragrant with dark honey of spring

And I would fly straight
to your arms, dripping with naked flowers from sea




Photography by Brooke Shaden


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Gayle ~

A Sonnetina Due, a poem in 10 lines, with 5 couplets, no meter.

Thanks for the visit ~