Under the honeycrisp branches
I'm watching the dusk die.
The ore *******
of a glassy sphinx
are silvering the fall,
her wingy myth
is mounting the sky,
is smiling at me
as she passes by.
And I look at her, look at her
scanning her magical waltz
with desperate eyes,
while thinking, in a nocturne,
how unreachable
it's her tide.

High in the pearly tree
a crimson robin
is waving good bye.
~Hildegarda Ares

In a throbbing coccon seized by ablazen web
thou viscid meanders woven by an unabating tempest
then hoarded in a rapture... by the sylph of the sands.

Rising rider, captive of an upwind sail
meadowy sky lover, worshipper of the ephemeral
fettered Why mooring the eluding eons to a transfixed now

as if the twined dreams of a wayfarer,
nomad of the seas, the sands and the skies
trapped in an ethereal time warp.

The first sinking dismay
she had in her humdrum life
was the first bongless time
when she heard herself cry.

The swallow of a muttered moan
following a stricken strife
like a shade hurtling the shadows,
a last dismaying gasp.

Where the zephyr in southerly arms die
where the nymph shrivels on a thirsty desire
where the Wheel crashes on a pallid meadow
where the plucked wings of the Dove fly?

Where the shadow of the bear downed stone
will dim my own umbra, eventide's gravedigger
brooding on a fractured glass? Lights' eyes queller
the lips' ballad subduer, ripper of the flock's strokes.

Your own stonewalling dismay is
double-crosser of a sea of dust chalk,
drowning feeble lying fireflies...
twinkling the sneers of your eclipse.

-Follow, follow her shadow
calling your own void from afar.

Where the wild lilacs the foggy crucify
where the stinging memory stirs dawdling desires
where a stabbing thought make the blurred red rock dance
dance in an **** between the answer and the why.

You are so, so beautiful that you deserve to hear it over and over again...for everness.~hao