Ailill, 7 stycznia 2012
Unfolding before your eyes
are states of mind that come and go,
mirrored in flashes of this life,
witnessing a self, as it beholds:
scents of incense on a breeze
hanging over early morning still,
bone barren trees, fallen leaves,
decomposing in winter chill.
Refuge inside, hermit-like,
ingrained in a breakfast bagel,
blueberries mingle, each bite
stains tongue into blue halos.
Saxaphone Jazz waves of Coltrane
playing ‘Soul Trane,’ swing in tune
to a medley of strumming sitar refrains
e-mailing mantras to the moon.
Cartoon sitcom scenes broadcasting
into the open window
of the t.v. screen; reflecting
fingers tapping the tango.
Table top romance,
engaged to a B flick movie,
tickled into a trance,
thoughts intrigued with the fantasies,
closet confessions hinted in depth;
double lives of Walter Mitty.
Theatrical daydreams secret,
classic Mysticism and Logic
reflections on existence.
Language stripped to the core,
laid bare, awareness of sense,
in order for mind to explore:
‘In the eyes of the beholder
lies keys to the self,
for self is a reflector
of what is beheld.’
Ailill, 30 grudnia 2011
Oh Venus, bright morning star
Glimmer of the dawn radiant
Diamond seen from afar,
Your light I look upon
To still the troubles of the night.
Through these shadows
I see into your majesty bright.
The smoke that rises from the flame
Signifies the sun shining through the rain.
It is the thorns that bring forth
The glory of the rose
And the spring that is born
Out of the well of winters woes.
Discord raises awareness of melody
As ugliness traces beauty.
You are a garden oasis that rises
From the dust of this wilderness.
The valleys of this life
Allow me to gaze upon
Your mountain heights.
Star of vision and power
Give me hope, in this my dark hour.
Regulamin | Polityka prywatności
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