Posts Tagged With: religion

the wisdom of the ground


you are not worth yet the price of a mustard seed
you lived neither 7 years of drought nor 3 nights without a day
through the core of your eyes you let inside a hurry-scurry
of swarming cherry petals flocks of crowned swans sunrises with a purple mantle

and all the vain beauty of this world

the gray nun’s outfit is so straightly cut
and the vestment of the nightingale is so poor
so do listen my friend to the deaf-mute mother swaying her sleeping baby
listen to the wordless and powerful silence in the last communion

yet it is still too much

I saw once a woman in a funerary cortege, the other women cried aloud or wept along the way, only she lagged behind like a sluggish stone she hardly breathed when the road suddenly climbed and the funeral banner fell at the graveyard’s gate, she was still silent like the earth, some people said that she was a witch or evil because she did not speak, but she looked gently towards them with pure and sparkling eyes

I met once a man who loved his child and gave him a beautiful fairy tale to be read every night, after many years the child deserted him and did not come back, but the old man looked at the child’s picture with the same love in his eyes, when he died people said that he was a bad man because he kept silent and thus the rats ate him in his grave, but after a few more years his child became silent too looking at others like his father did once

you are not worth yet the price of a mustard seed and neither do I

Categories: My poems in 2016 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Redemption Street


it was a city where high heels seldom popped
on the daily trespassed asphalt
but when that happened the earth trembled from its hinges
like the tables from the dining car
swirling swifter than toy pinwheels in the children’s playground

couples of lovers with thin shoe soles walked upon kerb stones
learning to step blindfolded eye-to-eye
like in a townsfolk’s facebook
people exchanged their wedding and baptism photos
look I give you my dead ones my past since Adam and Eve
you give me yours
we stay chatting we talk about talks we utter words about wording
some person tried to say something on his own and after that he broke apart
he forgot even about who art in heaven
he shrank water-soaked clinging to the wires
like an odd colored sock

it was in the beginning of the third millennium
when many still believed in Robinson Crusoe’s Bible
up in the pastures grass sprouts were still luscious and that was amazing

Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sorrow


An angel is crying,
his wings are melting
like rain in the sand,
lake’s face trembles
amidst water lilies.

His load fell on his arms
and the white cherry tree,
crucified flower,
drifts under storms…

Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Prayer


the candle trays are heavy
I hardly find my way among dead and alive
holding a drop of new light
crossing myself with my hand still warm

people stand shoulder to shoulder
the bell-ringer pulls down the rope
I’m beginning to feel the earth’s silence
candle flames are sizzling in the sand
upright or bending
separated or united

I get out into the sunlight
slowly stepping over the grass
an old cross raises in the church’s yard
still upright
an apple tree had grown beside it
leaning completely towards sunrise
almost touching the stone

I come back under vaults
crossing myself again
breathing much deeper
.
.

Categories: My Poems in 2011 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Quenched Fire


I locked my bedroom door
hiding like a wounded dog
without cleansing my injuries
there’s a blue hole in my belly
the color of dreams stronger than life

my unborn children strike my temple bones
stepping over my heart going down
along with my wishes
rough sand grinding in my stomach

I’m a woman with thousands of arms
rotating over head like a sword dance
one day they will fall over top
thorns will spring out from the bed
where I’m freezing

Jesus has a heart in flames above me
in another icon His Mother holds in her hands
a flower shaped heart
if I look closely I can see
that clouds are small angels
snowing over the blue hollow

Categories: My Poems in 2011 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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