Redolence

 

Dawn’s tea steam rises,

Memory threads wake and cling;

Soft rooms remember.

 

Wool jacket reeked,

Old rain, cigar smoke, spice; bliss.

Time breathes the bouquet.

 

Rain on grey pavement,

Wet soil and jasmine perfume;

Night remembered sigh.

 

Campanula

 

Petals at sunrise,

breathing colour into dawn,

soft and silent gift.

 

Bees circle sternly,

sipping nectar, song in wings;

petal bells tinkling.

 

Morning dew clings tight,

no scent lingers on my palms;

soft world exhales light.

 

Long dream

Waves of confidence,
Drift through the night's quiet void,
Endless realms unfold.

Moonlit shadows dance,
Time stretches in soft silence,
Reality fades.

In a slumber's grasp,
Minds wander through vibrant fields,
Hope blooms in the dark.

Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi (Prayer for Peace)

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

(Note: I'm sure St. Francis was referring to the Universe when addressing this prayer to his lord.)

 

 

Free Spirit

Sighs in the breeze,

we dance chasing the sunrise;

wild piths touch the sky.

Boundless as the sea,

unfettered by the confines;

dreams take flight on wings.

Laughter in the wind,

carefree steps on open paths;

life's song, ever free.

 

Birth of Tragedy

Silent night descends,

whispers weave through shadowed trances;

hope meets its downfall.

A fragile me breaks,

laughter dances with despair;

fate's cruel, hidden hand.

Stars fade in silence,

every joy bears quiet pain;

birth of tragedy!

Cogitation

 

Murmurs in stillness,

thoughts like leaves on quiet streams,

mind blooms in thy peace.

 

Breath flows with the tide,

each inhale a soft embrace,

exhale, let it go...

 

In the silent void,

time dissolves like morning mist,

just now, only now.

 

                                                 

Introspection

 

Silent morning light,

Whispers well concealed within,

Reflecting on dreams.

 

Beneath the surface,

Thoughts like ripples in the pond,

Truth emerges clear.

 

A lone tree stands tall,

Roots anchored deep in the void;

Branches reach for hope.

 

Pithy

 

See her from afar;

One woman beacons the crowd

To greet the true light.

 

Awakening 

We rose up early

To myriad approaching suns;

Blessings in disguise!

 

Flight

My mind flew toward

You, dramatic while soaring,

Unimpressed by all!

 

 

L'astre se replie

Au fond de son beau nombril;

Cybèle se repose!

 

Reflections

Right actions depend

On right thinking that relies

On knowing the truth.

 

Mind your own business.

Judge your successes by what

You had to give up.

 

Remember that great

Love and deft achievements

Involve daring risks.

Real love by Dr Iannis

"Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two."

― Louis de Bernières, Corelli’s Mandolin

 

Abreg ad hâbra
 
Abracadabra,
Philactère triangulaire;
Charmer et guérir!

1670 km per hour

 

Inebriating,

The ship revolving swiftly;

What’s the compulsion?

Perplexe

 Courant de conscience - Stream of consciousness 

Perplexe

Dégageant la neige à l’aube qui gênait une aurore si attendue, l’ironie du sort me frappa soudain, me réveillant de ma torpeur au mépris du froid cordial qui pour le moment ne cesse de se faire pardonner, se faisant le moins agaçant, réservant son autorité pour d’autres occurences qui n’attendent qu’une sommation inopinée des éléments souvent déconcertants pour récidiver. Pelle à la main donc, me consacrant à une besogne inéluctable, me voilà soudain submergé par une amertume inattendue mais toutefois latente car pernicieuse dans son expectative sournoise, tragédie grecque contre cette fatalité qui tient Cybèle si proche mais si inaccessible car elle-même contrariée dans une certitude vacillante malgré tout le confort sentimental et matériel l’entourant, ses lamentations feutrées mais ardentes faisant écho jusqu’ici dans l’attente d’un deus ex machina mirifique!

 

Cybèle

Faisceau lumineux,

Douce carnation veloutée;

Luxe, paix, volupté!