illustration pending (or how sunshine and too many blossoms can remind of Avallon)

aloofly, the chestnuts

shower the senseless asphalt

with fragments of pink and off-white.

the sun turns green all over

the birch-besieged streetlets,

and the younger lovers

hide not their excitement,

just like the starlings,

desperately nesting, in

defiance and in glorification

of all that shines, sings, transcends

the frozen drifts of before.

apple-trees emit fragrances,

burning exceptional in the morning,

dazzling every breathing moment

with a presence of the land

ever in spring-time, ever to the West.

bird-cherry nights

like a soundless party upstairs,
the bitter-sweet fragrance creeps
into my dreams, perfectly
blending in, subtly
turning the stream of subconscious
in a stranger  route,

and i, asleep, watch
the white and the magic
dance, twine, grow
and then – nothing, as the wind
changes, and the nightingale
bubbles and gurgles
the sun awake.

another one

burning photos

a flick, and another memory lights up, and
is elevated in smoke;

was it necessary, upon a second thought,
was that moment a pearl beyond comparison?

ordinary moments, strung on a fishing-wire,
like so many glass beads, fun to behold,
fun to make patterns, and so
ethnic, no high art would ever confess being near;

all that past mingles with embers
just now, and for ever, all towards

that one truth that remains.

through the sun and back again

in the rays of the pale sun
under the white sky, a droplet
of melting snow is a rainbow
semaphore, signalling
the brevity of time
and time alone, to be remembered;
a collection of shards of reminiscences
inhabiting the world of now, and ever so
astray;

[it is]
a vivacious reminder
that all the white colours
must contain a rainbow
transparent with joy,
cutting with sorrow
over the less fine moments
down the memory lane;

a little diamond of oxygen oxide.
a drop of light.
a candle of memory.

flowing so (actually the title i intended was April 17, 2012, but the sudden sun between clouds messed it up)

little reflections, ripples in reality
diamond shards of a lost moment – we
scintillate and mirror the breath
that shares us all, only

a pure prism of a dewdrop
throws a rainbow more devout.

all through the night

when the moon dives
for the horizon, i
slowly infest my bed, sprawling
in every direction, anchoring
every little tendril, every tentacle
firmly, so that i will not be budged,
not again, on this tossing and turning
sea of sleep.

—————————-

and i dream thus: