13/10/19 (midnight)

 It’s only when it’s very late.
 Or very early. 
 Too early, too late. 
 

 In a time between time.
 

 When I stretch words.
 When I glide on a song.
 When I close my eyes 
 

 And go back to that inner sanctuary.
 

 Beyond the warm flickering firelight,
 Beyond the wooden panels of this hut,
 Beyond the resting abode of my soul,
 

 There is a silhouette in the shadow.
 There is a gaze in the glimmer.
 There is a sigh in this stillness.
 

 Why?
 Why do you always remain?
 

 I finally know what the old crone beares on her back.
 I finally know what stories are buried with the maiden. 
 I finally know what hope carries the mother in her womb.
 

 Who am I?
 

 To you I am nothing.
 To you I was the untouched maiden.
 To you I way the barely sprung bud.
 

 And you?
 Oh you were
 

 The rain and the sunshine.
 The keyboard and the screen.
 The night and the stars.
 

 Everything.
 And you still are… 
 

 When the night is so deep,
 When the night is so silent,
 When the night is so cold,
 

 And I forget about
 

 Causality.
 Rationality.
 Credibility.
 

 And I believe in the 
 

 Unutterable.
 Unbelievable.
 Unspeakable. 
 

 Alone
 Mute.
 Frozen.
 

 My head full of songs.
 My eyes full of galaxies.
 My heart full of stories.
 

 Dearest,
 if you only knew…
 

 About all those words I only write for you.
 About all those places I only harbor for you.
 About all those gazes I only keep for you.
 

 You.
 Only you.
 

 But the stars fade.
 But the night alights.
 But the birds stir up.
 

 and I can longer feel you
 

 Right behind the curtain.
 Right after this bend.
 Right behind me.
 

 You are gone.
 

 And the day starts with a trumpet of engines.
 And the hours enfold with a chaos of voices.
 And reality sets in with a slamming of a door.
 

 Foolish, foolish girl.
 

 Until the autumn sun dips behind the trees.
 Until the golden leaves gently sway in the breeze.
 Until the breeze quieten down into an exhalation.
 

 And I can remember our last conversation.
 
 

13/10/19

 Your words are boxes.
 Your questions are bars.
 Your attention is a border.
 

 Enclosing me.
 Entrapping me.
 Chocking me.
 

 In.
 and out.
 In.
 and out…
 

 And I can breathe again.
 

 Did you follow the trail of petals leading into the woods?
 Did you follow the feather as it fell from the branches?
 Did you follow the brook cascading and shimmering away?
 

 Your bare feet against the cold mud.
 Your open palms against the silken foliage.
 Your open lips against the curtain of rain?
 

 Dewdrops gliding through,
 Droplets dripping through,
 Teardrops slipping through,
 

 Your outstretched fingers.
 

 Yours?
 Mine?
 Neither. 
 

 You’re trying too hard.
 You’re not trying hard enough.
 

 You are looking for warm golden marble that melts.
 You are looking for a thick but easily opened door.
 You are looking for something that only exists in your mind.
 

 I see you walk past me.
 

 You never noticed the softly whispering aspen tree.
 You never noticed the fluttering and chirping robin.
 You never noticed the sunbeam piercing into your eyes.
 

 You never noticed me seeking something in you.
 

 That wasn’t in you.
 That wasn’t for you.
 That was already in me.
 

 Did you decipher the footsteps in the mud?
 Did you translate the birdsong in the morn?
 Did you notice the pattern of the stars?
 

 You didn’t.
 

 Thus the lush isle remain forever out of reach in the mists.
 Thus the cabin with the glowing hearth remains deep in the woods. 
 Thus the enticing kisses remain forever beyond your reach in the clouds.
 

 Huffing 
 Humming
 Puffing;
 

 If only.
 

 Didn’t you read the legends about the never ending quest?
 Didn’t you read the poems about the wandering knights?
 Didn’t you hear the songs about the crownless kings?
 

 They are but stories to you.
 

 They are my bones.
 My gums and jaws.
 And all that blood.
 

 You mutter.
 You sputter.
 You stutter. 
 

 What a waste.
 

 I spread my wings,
 I turn my face to the moon,
 and I lung forward.
 

 Never looking back.
 

 I need peace,
 this world is to loud.
 

 Your boots crunch the leaves into dust.
 Your harsh sighs scare the sparrows away.
 Your reverberating platitude make the stars fade.
 

 Tiptoes, 
 Whispers,
 Truth.
 

 This is what I seek.
 

 How can I ever be yours?
 

 When I belong to myself.
 When I belong to God.
 When I still belong to the wind….
 

 That blows,
 Carries me
 Throws me away.
 

 Like a discarded page.
 Like a decaying leaf.
 Like a soft feather.
 

 Forever untamable. 
 Forever unavailable. 
 Forever unreachable.
 

 Eternally alone. 

11/10/19

I was born in the woods,
 

 Berry stained lips,
 Twigs adorned hair,
 Rain bedewed cheeks.
 

 I took my first step in the mountains,
 

 Rock bruised knees.
 Pine fragrant skin.
 Torrent frozen feet.
 

 And down the valley,
 Into the city.
 To reality,
 

 I lost my way.
 
 Trying to hear the birdsong.
 Trying to understand the story of the moon.
 Trying to find my way back to the wild.
 

 And then, the wind blew hard…
 

 I lost my footing.
 I lost my direction.
 I lost my name.
 

 I was his.
 But he was never mine.
 

 Under the full moon,
 In the clearing of a forest,
 By a roaring campfire,
 

 I found a sisterhood of women
 I found a sisterhood of the untamed
 I found a sisterhood of wolves. 
 

 Their words were like balms.
 Their heart songs were like a spark.
 Their wisdom was like a revelation.
 

 A reminder.
 A recalling.
 A return….
 

 To my own wild self.
 

 I cried and dried their tears.
 I laughed and heard them laugh. 
 I roared and they roared with me.
 

 The moon waxed and waned.
 The leaves grew and fell.
 The great tit sang and left.
 

 It was time to leave.
 

 I kept on walking until their voices were like whispers.
 I kept on walking until their faces were like dreams.
 I kept on walking until their words were branded in my soul.
 

 In the silence,
 I could hear myself again.
 

 In the darkness,
 I could see myself again.
 

 In the stillness,
 I could move myself again.
 

 Dance
 Walk 
 And swim. 
 

 I found the ocean. 
 

 The waves beckoning me.
 The blue color soothing me.
 The sand pulling me in. 
 

 And I swam. 
 

 My hair like the nets of a mermaid.
 My skin finally cleared of all those wounds. 
 My limbs stretching and growing.
 

 When I came out of the water,
 

 Dark long tangled hair like seaweed,
 Covered in blue from ankles to wrist, 
 Pushed forward by the waves,
 

 I was reborn.
 

 Short golden halo,
 Red lips,
 Sparkly finger.
 

 I went on.
 

 Aimlessly.
 Hopelessly,
 Tiredelessly. 
   
 A bird dropped a feather in my hair,
 A constellation drew a figure in the sky.
 A message in a bottle told me a story,
 

 Oh what a wonderful story. 
 

 A tale that could feed many lonely nights.
 A tale that could delight a tired heart.
 A tale that could show a new path.
 

 Full of dreams,
 Full of birds,
 and full of hopes,
 

 I found her again….
 

 That girl you never knew.
 That girl I never forgot.
 That girl I always longed for.
 

 Rosy cheeked,
 Mud splattered feet,
 Sparkly deep eyes.
 

 Oh she is back!
 

 Look at how she dances.
 Look at how she sings.
 Look at what she writes.
 

 You may never return.
 There may never be another.
 But I have her, but I have me.
 

 And so many songs in he death of night.
 And so many stories at every turning.
 And so many dreams in every sunset.
 

 Did you think you were the only dream I had?
 

 Oh you didn’t,
 You never thought about me… Did you?
 

 But I believed…
 

 You were the path I had to thread.
 You were a dream come true. 
 You were a story beyond stories.
 

 And now I just shrug.
 And now I just look up.
 And now I just spin.
 

 Around and around.
 

 There’s hope in my step.
 There are sparks in my thoughts.
 There are stories in my fingertips.
 

 I write and write.
 

 From the woods,
 To the mountains,
 To the sea….
 

 — and back to the woods. 
 

 Like the dance of the moon,
 Like the refrain of the seasons,
 Like the story of a drop of water. 
 

 Around and around.
 

 Like a dancer,
 Like a planet,
 Like a galaxy.
 

 All for a feather on my path.
 

 

10/10/19

I dreamt of the ocean again.
 

 The waves were soft and docile,
 The water was warm and inviting,
 The wind was dewy and gentle. 
 

 I was a girl once more.
 

 Dancing on the sand,
 With my cousins.
 

 Jumping in the water,
With my clothes on.
 

 Swimming in the ocean,
 With the frothy waves 
 

 How free I was.
 How easily I forgot.
 

 How they crash,
 Hush, hush.
 

 How I remain,
 How you left.
 

 The ocean is so far away now.
 

 But I can stil hear the waves rolling and crashing.
 But I can still feel the ocean breeze on my hair and face. 
 But I can still taste the tears on my lips of that never-ending dance.
 

 Perhaps,
 It’s just the wind.
 

 Perhaps,
 It’s just a memory.
 

 Perhaps,
 It’s just a dream.
 

 Hush,
 Watch….
 

 How they come,
 And how they leave.
 

 How they kiss,
And how they embrace.
 

 How they run to you,
 And run from you.
 

 Close your eyes
 And listen.
 

 Here now,
 Gone now.
 

 The seagull,
 The albatross,
 And the heron.
 

 Open your eyes.
 And it’s too late.
 

 I already left.
 I already melted
 I already lost my way. 
 

 And the waves, 
 The waves…
 

 Like echoes of a forgotten song.
 Like pebbles of a forgotten trip.
 Like hopes of a forgotten dream.
 

 Waves upon waves,
 Billow upon billow,
 Tsunami upon tsunami.
 

 Never wondering,
 About the aftermath,
 About the consequences. 
 

 And the destruction. 
 

 Ever coming,
 And leaving,
 And returning.
 

 Echoing,
 Forever,
 Echoing….
 

 That dream.  

29/09/19

They ask me about what I write.
 

 I sigh
 I shrug.
 and I lie.
 

 If I told them the truth
 

 Their eyes would be full of pity.
 Their mouths will be full of contempt.
 Their forehead will be full of incomprehension.
 

 Truth is, 
 

 I don’t understand it either.
 

 There’s a voice in the breeze,
 There’s silhouette in the woods 
 There’s a name on the wall.
 

 Always the same.
 

 Some write,
 

 Love is a mental affliction.
 Love is a learned behavior.
 Love is a comforting habit.
 

 Flat
 Empty
 Sterile.
 

 What is love?
 

 A plot for an otherwise boring novel?
 A ploy to sell more chocolates and roses?
 A gimmick to give meaning to commercial songs?
 

 Is it something I made up,
 To make my sunset glow?
 

 Is it something I dreamt up,
 To make my morning melodious?
 

 Is it something I twisted up,
 To make my nights magical?
 

 Ungraspable,
 Unreachable,
 Unbearable,
 

 Especially since you remain unseen.
 

 Where?
 How?
 Why?
 

 Madness.
 Foolishness.
 Childishness.
 

 Let me write a theory about this disorienting wave.
 Let me analyzes this delicious polarity.
 Let me write a poem about this sinking elation.
 

 Good Lord, girl, don’t be silly. 
 
undefined
 They ask me about what I write.
 

 I sigh.
 I shrug.
 And I smile…
 

 Love,
 I always write about love. 

18/09/19

Today,
Autumn was glowing in amber.
The wind was blowing with anger.

Today,
My heart was glowing with echoes of you.
My perfume was blowing gently around me.

Do you remember this scent?

Violets in the spring.
Musk for the winter.
And sunshine for autumn.

Spring never came,
did it?

I remember you best

When I’m leaving.
When I’m running away.
When I’m turning away from a loving heart.

Was it how you felt?

When you walked away.
When you stopped answering.
When you faded into a breeze.

Life keeps on knocking at my door.
and I say no.

No, I don’t want him.
No, I don’t want this life.
No I don’t want to take this path.

The leaves scatter at my tired feet.
The mud settled around my bare feet.
The sand weighs over my sunken feet.

I cannot.
I will not.
I refuse.

But you will never answer my whisper.
But you will never turn around.
But you will never return to me.

Never.

Why do I stay here?
Why do I linger here?
Why do I take roots here?

People walk by.

Some talk to me about the world beyond.
Others take my hand and try to lure me to their own paths.
I want to find my own way.

The way back to myself.
The way back to my own realm.
The way back to me before you.

To walk away from the ruins of a delusion.
To walk away from a castle of dreams.
To walk away from something truer than reality

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

is further that I can go.

17/09/19

There’s a man I once,

Dreamt of,
Wrote about,
And fell in love with.

I never named him.
I never saw his face.
I never talked of him.

Until you came along.

The same eyes,
The same light,
The same soul.

There you were.

Straight from all those books I devoured.
Straight from all those songs I sang.
Straight from all those dreams I weaved.

Unreal,
Uncanny,
Unattainable.

The stories I always dreamt of writing.
The man I always dreamt of meeting.
The life I always dreamt of living.

Could it be?
Could it be true?
Could it truly be true?

I asked everyone…
But you.

Where did the birds flew to?

Where the leaves fall.
Where the petals scatter.
Where the wind blew.

Ah that wind!
Lo that wind!

Setting fire to a whole forest.
Spreading waves  of radioactivity.
Scattering seeds of bitterness.

But you weren’t a story,
But you weren’t a character,
But you weren’t a dream…

You were but a broken man
You were but a lost boy.
You were but a real person.

So I watch the blackbird leave for the winter.
So I watch the finches packing their bags.
So I watch the robin redbreast waiting for the new year.

You are but a person.

These pages are too heavy for you.
These poems are too heady for you.
These dreams are too scary for you.

Too much,
Too soon.
Too late.

I repeat like a mantra.
I whisper like a prayer.
I write like a farewell.

and now, I don’t miss you.
and now I miss him.
and now I miss her too.

The one who was before.
Primeval.
The one who was always.
Primordial.
The one who was for me.
Primal.

And as the harvest moon rises.
I reap bits of hope again

And as the stars barely glimmer.
I gather wisps of dreams again.

And as the sun glides bravely.
I glean melodious songs again.

And I sing…

To the ever lasting trees,
To the late rising birds,
To the lingering sunsets.

And I sing…

For the children who will never know.
For the adults who will never remember.
For the man who will never return.

and I sing…

To the smiling girl who still dreams.
To the crying girl who still writes.
To the glowing girl who still hopes…

The maddest of hopes.
Hope against hope.
Fool’s hope.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Hope.

10/09/19

To admit that you’re gone.
To admit that you have disappeared
To admit that you will never return… ever.

Is to admit this absence within me.
Is to admit this silence over me.
Is to admit this space around me.

How does the sand feels after the waves retreat?
How does the twig feel after the wind has died down?
How does the riverbed feel after the stream has melted into the earth?

Ah, the earth who has all our whispers.
Ah, the earth who has all our footsteps.
Ah, the earth who has all our decaying bodies.

Gone, radio-silence, gone.
Gone, ghosting, gone.
Gone, dead, gone.

Gone.
and now what?

Don’t ask me where I am.
Don’t come to my doorstep.
Don’t bang at my door.

I’m gone too.

Where to?
The owl asks deep in the night.

Where to?
The wind howlers at dawn.

Where to?
The blue tit twirps in the afternoon.

Where to? How to? How come?

This poem wasn’t supposed to finish this way.
This song wasn’t supposed to fade this way.
The summer wasn’t supposed to patter off this way.

Not this way.

But I do not command the wind.
But I do not command the clouds.
But I do not command destiny.

There’s was once a fool that believed that…

she could follow a dream vision.
she could conjure up a lover.
she could use telepathy to send her poems.

and secure what wasn’t for her.
and create a perfect scenario for reality.
and bring back the one who didn’t belong to her.

What happened to that girl?

Follow that winding path,
Cross that drying brooke.
Climb that rocky hill.

and maybe you’ll find….

That fading and ethereal wise woman.
That rusty and ruddy wild witch.
That tangled and brawny wood fairy.

Let me warn you…

she only answers the call of the robin.
she only opens her window late at night.
she only opens her door for the wild creatures.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

For a clump of violets,
A trickle of rose essence,
And a feather,

She might let you sit by her glowing hearth.
She might listen to the whispers of your heart.
She might let you find healing for all your hurts.

But don’t ask her where she is.
Don’t.

Lest she flies off.

09/09/19

Now that the birds are fleeing,
and the leaves falling,
and the petals scattering –

I can no longer be the girl you met in summer,
autumn is creeping over me;

shading me, sheltering me.
changing me, polishing me.
cradling me, burying me.

The summer berries’ taste is still lingering

on my lips
in my hair.
… my fingers.

But I can hear a call.
But I can hear a whisper.
But I can hear a song….

From deep in the forest.
From beyond the river.
From beyond my summer lair.

I must go,
I have to return.
I have to run and run…

Until I see it :

that glimmer in the sky
that spark in my heart
that glow in the distance.

Closer,
closer,
closer.

Here,

I can feel the wood under my hands,
I can feel the soft rug under my feet.
I can feel that gentle warmth on my skin.

Outside,
Outside the world is dying and decaying.

Inside,
Inside, our home is glowing and full of mirth.

Here and now,
Here and now, I am close to you and I am safe.

Every year,

when the leaves are aflame,
when the ground is cold,
when the birds have bid us farewell,

I take that path…

In the dark mud,
through the sleeping trees,
over the freezing river…

to the cabin.

Where the fire sputters,
Where the heart settles
Where the soul flies….

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

and You wait.

08/09/19

Alone isn’t the right word,
Dear.

Lonely is perhaps the right word,
Love.

And you fill me up with your kind woods.
And you make me dance with your stories-
And you make me glimmer with your interest.

He cares.
He does.
I fall asleep with a smile.

He doesn’t know me.
He doesn’t understand me.
I wake up with a frown.

I run,
I jump into the waves,
and swim so far away.

This is my loneliness-
Its my garb.
It’s my tower.

Mine, not yours.
Me, not you.

But you recognize yourself in my faltering smile.
But you recognize yourself in my uneven words.
But you recognize yourself in my bittersweet tears.

Two weatherbeaten travelers.

Sharing a story by the campfire.
Sharing a prayer around dawn.
Sharing a wordless longing.

But dear,
I am not yours.

But dear,
You are not mine.

We belong to ghosts.
We belong to the departed.
We don’t even belong to ourselves.

Love,

Hush, it’ll be aright.
Hush, I pray that you find love.
Hush, this story isn’t ours.

I am not your gentle crutch.
You are not my pretty illusion.

Your arms cannot hold me.
My heart cannot contain you.

The waves lapping at my feet.
The wind tearing at my heart.
Tears making my smile shine.

Like a beacon of hope.
Like a steady lighthouse.
Like a fading signal fire.

Fading…

The warm comforter,
in tatters.

The delicate sparkler,
and darkness.

The soothing echo,
and silence.

And you are the one who waited.

The rain beating on your face,
Your body merging to that bench.
The darkness covering your loyalty.

Dear,

let us shake hands with a blessing .
let us take the path that calls us.
let us belong to our own solitude.

Fare thee well.