Sunday, April 17, 2011
On a sunny day, like a breeze
Laden with the fragrance of dreams
You came and beckoned me
To the meadows far and wide
Where a spring from the mountains
Wet the newly blossomed fingers.
Wandering at last lost to oneself
And lost oneself we don’t even know
Why we sought each other until
Seeking itself became the thrill
Like the kids who forget tears
And smile into nothingness.
Still your name heard from a
The shepherd’s bugle and the one
Hanging from his cap’s tip
Enthrall me with memories of
Kisses locked in prints and
The tastes of dark recesses.
Sinners are we as the pilgrims of desires
And on the nights of cloud and storm
Under the shades of shabby shames
We light up our guilt and flood
Into each other like molten words;
Angels do not judge us before apocalypse.