She loved him deeper
than the ocean loves sky.

He didn't know it,
only when the night came
he felt a gentle wind
caressing his cheek,
and smiled.

Beauty
walks
gently
into
the
heart
through
a
delicate
tempest
of
­playing
branches
when
spring
rain
waters
swirl
and
sky
steps
ador­n
streets
with
dance

I'll meet you
where white-capped peaks
brush low dim clouds
and fir trees' spirits hover
above the silken silence
of stellar-scented grounds.

Each syllable
of his dew poem
the moon's echo

A shadow leaf sleeps in her abode facing north.
In the forgotten garden a litany streams, to coalesce with the flow of a river, shaping its way along the lost shores.
It is dusk. Vesper choirs chant softer than a shy breeze, the forest nightingale weeps without a sound.
For how long shall the story stay unvoiced?
She thinks of eternity.

Softer
on a rose
teardrops