By the end of winter
hind the canopy of leaves
they build a chaotic nest.

She sits meditative
he stands watchful
and once only my eyes could intrude
four bluish white nuggets.

When in the first winds of summer
dance the mango buds
small wings would ache
not to fly beyond mother's love.

But she knows no time to waste
so they too on the next winter
gather twigs for a nest.

~~
Then, if ever, is the red color grows fade
The petals of red roses drop
If the birds don't sing any songs
And even a butterfly doesn't
Play on a purple flower

If the mistake happens in the rain
You 'll not cry
You can't be afraid of thunder
They will cleanse you

And when I am gone
Forgive me, but the melody in the air
You will come, playing in the garden,
Dance with the lost grasshoppers

Any yellow day when red flamboyant will be bloomed
Will have to take off your colorful sunglasses
At the very noon will be floated on the Cuckoo's love song
Again and Again it will prove your arrival,

O' Spring

You'll be the very white sky after rain
Will bloom red hibiscus
On that gilded day  
Red flamboyant 'll be loved with yellow flamboyant

Patched up with melody and words
Will be made new Songs,
New Poetry,
With the yellow flowers tune

Then again,
You 'll not  sing a song of despair,
Not even a song of hiatus,
Will sing the Songs of Joy,
Stir in the way of dreams,
Mating

Back to again and again
I 'll come back to you
Both 'll make a love  
For the creation of a new life
~~

Shoots of grass spring up.
As the rain is falling down
The Earth breathes new life

she leaves
everything
on a page,
all her sorrow,
her love
and her rage,
and I truly believe
she will write
herself free
of the jailers
who fastened
her cage.

Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling

When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts

Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging

Some part of you is like the moon
softly glowing beside me on my too-small bed,
and the monumental loneliness you wear as a halo
must be a trick of the eye despite keeping me awake,
hunched over a folder of unedited poems at 2:45AM.
I wonder what the moon dreams of when the sun
tucks it into bed at dawn as your eyelids flutter
and your breathing hitches for a moment
before you roll over, face the wall,
parting clouds with a small sigh.

From the fires in the sky,
births a flash of brilliant insight...
spiders down into a fork
of arms and legs.

Quick to intimate in the echoes
of her startled repercussions
when she mumbles rolling rumbles
as the thunder claps a splintered
aftershock of sharp distinctions
in her wide, awakened sky…

“You will hear me cry,
when upon my weary weight of burdens
raze a scar across the scape
of my freshly sheared horizon.”

“Unto you, I shed my sorrows as a blessing
down onto an eager and accepting Earth.”

Awaiting with open arms of a Mother
kneeling to embrace her mournful babe,
drinking hurried tears freshly fallen from
the cheeks once forsaken….

“As reward for your rescue from
my ripped and rattled rapture,
you shall bear the ripened fruit
from the prairies and the vine.”

“Out of the greatest growth
shall sprout abundance from
the heavy laden secrets
that I weep.”

“I will know of the comforts from below
that remain ever vigilant and faithful.
In return, you shall share in the
treasures of my mystery.
In the tears that I cry
live the sustenance for life
and for death…and in both
you will come to know
the Glory of my Story.”

Yet for now we must part
for the time being in return,
we will dance with the darkness,
come to life and rejoice
in the fires from the sky…

*...until appears a lighted lantern
with a lesson of the Gnosis
from the Fire in the Sky.

Her lids reconciled
Trying to taste the sweet tone of the wind
As it sang again for her
Running up across the dry meadows
She can smell the grass on her feet
The lake looks as though a blanket
Endlessly rolling tiny waves
"Where to?" Her heart wanted to ask
To the swinging ropes
She sat on the sturdy tire
She is colorless under the purple skies
She lost her balance like she did intend
Almost lying upside down
She felt the rush of blood go through her head
And found the trenches of goodbyes
Long kept in the clouds of twilight
Suddenly, tears in her eyes
Did you ever miss me?
Maybe a little
But not as much
Not like a firefly who lost her light
Maybe not a all


-Untitled, Margaret Austin Go