​Winter sun
​why do you choose to live?
​Whittling away
​until there is nothing left.
​Maybe, like me
​you have a spring longing.
​A woman, a man –
​there is always something
​to go beyond the gray for.
​And there are always
​next seasons stars.
​The future for both of us.

I look up from writing.
Stars letting the years slip away.
And in front of me
a slow coiling of love.
Now I can see the
island on the horizon.
No longer a one-night show.

Each night two-by-two
the stars visit me.
And I return to another place.
A place with many
birds in the trees.
And the nakedness
of your singing lips
looking down on
my sleeping body.
All around the
glory of summer
is still to come.

Longing for the empty
mountain to share your space.
The stars of early spring look closer.
So I will write a
poem for my beloved.
The words will become a tree
wrapped around by body.
Gently parting my lips
And telling me of living
bodies still to come.
​

The magpie came back this morning.
Telling me about the thinness of life.
I told it about the sun up
and the sundown.
And the splashing drops of love
that have come my way.
The magpie thought I was lucky.
I thought that winter
comes and we surely die.
Before then I bring all that
I am, and all that there is.

​The day shivers out.
​Winters backward glance.
​Kissed by the thought of you.
​I am no longer trapped
under a cats paw.
​And dreams come again.

It was once too black.
All crumbling.
Then by luck, fate or karma.
A pale blueness,
the shade of a new
spring crept into my life.
From that moment
a firm gaze on that island beauty.
Everything was undone.
My eyes and my
mouth opened skyward.
And I tasted the raindrops,
once again.
And wanted more.

When the stormy
winds blew strong.
And I stood alone.
An old love-song came by.
Grown on two islands.
Wild patterns of yearning hearts.
And now my lady can see.
This is love.
That fins the waters,
mountains and all the sky.
​

Those simple steps.
Each one both drops of dew
and a poets sharp-edged sword.
Inviting a spring breeze
and cherry blossoms.
“Your life is mended”
A voice cried.
And I saw a wondrous
journey ahead, for both of us.

It’s just my luck
that I was there.
Plum rain whipping
desolate mountains.
A curved space
embracing the storm.
And the first real kiss.
That helped the days
thicken around us.
How beautiful the
sun set those sultry days.
​