a soft sky dive
across the arrival
of moon-templed dusk
a low silver note of cello
this homecoming
.
.
.
(art by Dirk Wüstenhagen)
five lines
tender storytimes
nothing is ordinary.
whenever the magic of creation
sails from a gate of grace
to the wide of daily adventuring
each small discovery is a treasure.
and the dearest harbors are weaved
of our ancient shades
and a misted longing
to witness nature’s melody.
to map the soul of being
.
.
.
(art by Valery Artamonov)
ты здесь
…и
вдохнув акварельное небо
собирать все литании
все осколки летних городов
там, где беcконечность
и сине-солёное море
отражает всю нежность тихих
снов
даже тех, где остались
только полустёртые графики
ранних поездов
но где так уютно молчать
не нуждаясь в лишней явности
слов
vesper
whenever i dive
to honor the summer
of your underwater gardens
twelve petals of lotus
drift on the sea surface
close to the shore
of a slow lantern moon
where you spoke
of how the heart glorifies
a windworn path
a tea-blue hour emerges
from a dusky fragment
you are every star
sun mist
a lily boat
discovers peace
where a witnessing
and a whispering
are in harmony
reflecting
wanderlights of sky
for miles and miles
(art by Valery Artamonov)
canvas of light
soft sundew is an ache,
yet also a relief,
a willow stirring
at the sight of early birds
along the lotus diary.
silver of small horizons,
sacred to the vision
of a cloud’s realm,
warmed with a prayer
tenderly as summer
(art by Veneta Docheva)
(from a diary)
it’s often
for the chiming
of a silver hour
a star is falling
to be risen in a field
that echoes sea
it’s often
for no reason
when a straying
floats the grail
of timelessness
a freedom is a heart
that knows no logic
but the ardor
of sky wings
.
.
.
(art by Dirk Wüstenhagen)
consentement
how in the gathering
of rose and wind,
so lightly dew-rushed and immediate,
the seventh sense is summering
a wakeful wisdom to a heartbeat
of a dream
even before
soft fireflies appear
in the open
with every zephyr whisper
the teasel’s wistful whimsy
glows a delicate strength
with every drifting notion
of how to shelter a mystery
the field sanctifies breath
homecoming is in the sway
of listening
.
.
.
(art by Robert Bissell)
dedans
le calme
qui révèle le monde
ne s’estompe pas
mais miroite
à travers un champ
d’herbe douce,
des nuages libres,
des fleurs cachées
le calme
qui révèle le monde
est rempli de tendresse
(image: Dirk Wüstenhagen)
