I asked Life to dance with me
And He brought me to the hardest steps
The turns and twists I never expected
The severest discipline and arduous regime.

Life told me to be careful and precise
To not step on others feet and to keep
My own pace and rhythm to decide.
I was astounded how difficult it is
To really dance with Life and not to weep.

There were so many techniques to study
And sure I was, it will take the whole of my life
To learn to dance with the best slenderness
Flying along with Life, as it is Him who always
Takes the lead and steers you along your path.

But Life was so eager to take me to dance
So I went along and learned the lessons
The wondrous steps I will always remember
And yet I have so many to learn.

Under those far-reached specks
Of joyful glittering stars
Steps a thoughtful wanderer
Like a philosopher in a hazy road of night.

In his wrinkled long lived hands
He holds the book of his soul
Where every word is written
With precision, passion and vision.

The worn-out crinkly papers
Store the wise thoughts and feelings
Which get a complement fillings.
In an every new place of wonder.

For him the adventure and life
Is the most captivating matter
To discover the goodness of people
And write the wise words of jewel.

The slenderness of the delicate letters
The softness of the deep-meaning words
Painted on a snow white paper.
The Silver Poet sits under the dim light
Of the mystic star-knitted universe.

Closing the eyes he feels a crystal tear
Rolling down like a raindrop on the glass
Falling into eternity, dropping on the snowy paper.
The Silver Poet is shivering but has no fear.

The words he limns flow like a pure river
Down the mountain slopes leaving its path
An everlasting mark which will never vanish
The poem comes alive when the Silver Poet breathes.

He takes out his Golden Heart to accomplish the poem
And gives his wondrous soul for the sake of the rhythm.

The poem is ready to become another bright star
Knitted carefully around the Silver Poet's Golden Heart.

Sailing in my thoughts
            Like a ship in the ocean
Swaying up and down
               On the poetical waves.

Thoughts are the waves
                     Poetic and creative
Painful and joyous
                        Stormy and calm.

They hit unexpected
             Leaving a mark behind
Like love leaves a scar
           Thoughts leave a notion.

Poets are in need of them
         The ideas of stormy waves
Their mind is able to create
         After a thriving earthquake
Which brings about the storm
                       In the creative days.

Gentle drops of Love
Slide down my heart
The foggy waterfall grows
When the drops gather in one.

The reflection
Of the crystal clear lake
Which resides at the bottom
Of the heart in tears
Is formed in the retina
Of the lucid eyes.

The lake is icy and cold
When the drops are frozen
To melt again in the warmth
Under the tears of Love.

The reflection of the soul
Is seen within the silver glass
In your eyes where the treasure is hold.