In the solitude
Of our temples heart,
We wrote our names
Into the wind,
A written music
For those with wings.
The perched prayers
Flutter…begin.
Tag: Poetry
Seven Days
When you were the sea of my eye,
My self fell upon wings so shy.
When was laughter last so light,
That I had felt forgotten flight.
Day 6
In the company of friends,
We forget what life amends.
And if it where still the same,
Will we know what remained.
On day 5 am
In that we wait for end,
Mid fading winds of sand.
In dark refuge of night,
Silent word prays…despite.
The fourth day
I whisper as one, another,
Who was left with little cover.
I saw the blooms of shiver cast,
Infant petals, not one the last.
Just before the wind had left
This wood had days not so bereft.
With all the thickets swaying bare…
This little bloom sways so fair.
Day, the Third
Between the borders of my self,
The lips of the departed mourn,
For there my spirit descends,
Taking the eyes of death.
The Second Day
The sky is my wound,
And you… my womb.
If ever was a lovers nest,
Let us in the sky take rest.
First Day
The charm of a sun,
Those golden rays.
A wild grass undone,
Golden, reaches…sways.
Your Youth
What is your youth,
Purity? Memory? Wisdom?
Is it such a secret
that all the world will
sway for you?
Your shyness fetters even
the last ice into Springs
Excitement,
As winters solitude blushes
In the face of your youth.
Disenchantment
In the ruins of disenchantment
Parrables of suffering
Lay amongst the orchids of beauty.
Here the heart labors
Where the soul
Has been patient.
Winds sweep away
Ruins and blooms…
Wanderers too.
ahorsealone 
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