Flowers blooming in the mid-autumn rain,
small crystals of water forming in their petals,
spreading their beautiful aroma in throbs of pain,
written in black ink across love letters.

Nuit blanches of enormous hurt,
clouded by the haze of our dream.
I, a weary traveler, guided home,
by the light of your love beam.

"Chrysanthemums of love blooming in the heart,
                                                bleeding it dry, yet keeping it alive"

Everyday is but a fleeting moment,
gone with in the blink of an eye.
People we meet, yet forget to greet,
each of them living life in their own way...

Our ego dictates the way we live,
yet restricts us to our basic selfish need,
our soul becoming just a shell
for our enormous greed...

Each step we take in our waking life,
becomes but a routine,
so much that we forget to look at the beauty of the world,
the only thing that remains pristine...

She walked in Beauty...
Her graceful steps resound
as they leave their echo
on the cold metal ground.

Her tall, lithe body
stood in might amongst her peers,
graced with beautiful,  charming eyes
wherein there was a tear.

It rolled down her cheeks,
As it made a crescent arc,
as it landed in my spirit,
where it left an immortal mark.

She passed before me,
A fleeting moment of bliss,
before blessing the air,
with an enchanting kiss.

I stood there bewitched,
as if a spell fell upon me,
which gave me no right to move,
nor anyone else to see.

I watched her leave,
Like a masterful illusion,
That committed upon me,
such a forceful intrusion.

As I watched her ever-departing back,
I started thinking of what I'd lost
as a cause of my meager ego,
but, alas, at what a shocking cost...

                           Marian Kutra ©

Days go by,
with morning suns and midnight moons,
as your spirit dances
to an old man's tune.

Life for you,
never so serene has it appeared
until now in your old age,
when you've truly let go.
of what you feared

You've traveled so long,
and you've never stopped,
carrying bittersweet memories
with each golden token you've dropped.
Seen the world,
in its pure beauty and sin,
felt the pain of losing,
in every place you've been.

Yet you continue your lifelong journey,
of finding the unfound,
never giving up on living,
not for any situation or problem,
in which you were bound.

Dreams unfulfilled,
were littered broken in your road,
yet you kept on going
with renewed hope.
For life is not to be regretted,
but to be loved.
For old age is never to be feared,
but to be enjoyed

On a summer's night full of stars,
I gaze out into the sky
and I see millions of lights,
carving out what I see around me.

A slight breeze so silently flows,
and it slowly caresses my face,
just like a mother's warm kiss,
on a lovely night just like this.

What I see before me,
is green all around,
just like dreams of hope,
but silent,
with no sound.

Then a dark raven flies,
across the crystal skies,
carrying with it the bad omen,
its being signifies.

It lets out a shriek,
so desperate it sounds,
to warn the others,
of the dangers lurking all around.

Its pitch black feathers,
just like obsidian they seem,
shining beautifully under the moonlight,
just as if in a dream.

It swoops down from the sky,
as if wanting to escape,
but then it flies back up,
knowing it can't run away from its fate.

He then lets out a resounding shriek,
as if happy, he is
and flies away eternally,
flowing with the night breeze.

Up on a lighthouse,
kissed by the rolling waves,
a young child is gazing at the stars,
while his dreams become alive.

Sudden moves carve in his eyes,
so quick do they seem,
so powerful and moving,
as if in a dream.

He tries to reach the stars,
which he so eagerly observes,
a futile try in the end,
for he can never reach the birds.

He sits down absent-minded,
so desolate and shocked.
His dreams were crushed to smithereens,
in his eyes he's lost all hope.

There by chance,
he fortunately lowers his gaze,
and catches there beneath him,
the blue rolling waves.

Then his eyes lit up,
as if a fire was ignited,
as if hope he regained,
with the fire that he started.

No more he would reach for the stars.
No more would he want to fly aside the birds,
he would live in this Earth,
the life he deserves.

*It is foolish to reach for the heavens,
when you still haven't explored Earth

As I sit while watching the sky,
my imagination glorifies my desire to fly.
I lean down on this ancient tree,
watching the birds as they fly worry-free.

I watch a brook as it slowly flows,
its cold water completed by a crystal glow.
I feel its coldness seep through my skin,
a coldness purer than the arctic wind.

I see the Sun slowly slipping away
going back to its everlasting grave.
I'll see it tomorrow high up in the sky,
revived again as it watches the birds fly.

I see the grass as it hides the Earth,
covering it up as it gives birth,
to the countless miracles we call life,
then cutting them away like a merciless knife.

I feel the wind flowing through my bones,
giving me company as I sit alone.
It has flowed endlessly as the eons go by,
accompanying the birds as they soar across the sky.

I see the clouds covering the sky.
I see them hiding the unreachable heights.
I see them pour rain and fire,
their profoundness something we're bound to admire.

I see fields of grass
and buildings of glass.
I see fire and rain,
pouring down with nothing to gain.

I see animals
living their life.
I see them fight
to live another night.

I see myself living worry-free,
lying down on this ancient tree.
I see myself watching the crystal skies,
reliving again days and nights of life.

Every day and every night,
reminiscing about the past
Remembering the good old days,
when I used to sit at the glades

The grass brushing my feet,
like a blazing heart full of greed.
My creative heart would be lit
entering with the shadows in the words' pit.

My heart trembled by the mere sight of it,
the shadows' heart was everlasting in its pit.
Nights went by in a flash,
all the days looked like a mad dash.

Running through my life like this,
has made me lose quite a bit.
A lot of hours spent learning,
everyday spent burning.

Hours upon hours of work,
forgot to even look at the clock.
So busy forging a career,
forgot to care about anyone I hold dear

As I lay down in this prison bed,
patiently waiting for my skin to shed,
I recall the memories of life,
memories that are long gone along with my might.
I wait patiently for death to take me,
eagerly waiting for the end that I can see.
I see darkness and light alike,
for I was blinded by fate's might.
Slowly I close my eyes that cannot see,
to imagine the things that could have been.

Now my consciousness drifts away,
yet I feel I'm wide awake,
I can hear the drifting snow,
I can see the energy flow,
I can feel the light pass through,
I can smell the tea that's just been brewed.
Yet I'm slowly drifting away,
growing weaker everyday.

I recall my youth,
when I was a pitiful boy,
unable to have a life,
for I was somebody else's toy.

Later in my life,
I decided to change,
wanted to clear up the shame,
I'd brought upon my family name.
I married to a wife,
not to have a lonely life.
I had a bunch of kids,
who I could give my inheritance bit by bit.
But they all died in strange ways,
it's the Gods' will,
what can I say?

Now I stay here all alone,
all my grandchildren think I'm gone.
But I'll shortly be on my way,
I just had these things to say.
Goodbye everybody I'll soon be gone,
heading for another dimension,
hopefully it won't be too long

Farewell!

As I live in this unfair world,
years go by as I grow old.
Countless days have passed since then,
days gone along with friends.
What's left is a loneliness that cannot be bent.

Now my only friend is the night.
It's the only one that has the right,
it's the only one that is sincere,
as it lights the silhouette of a little deer.

Now I sit lonely in my room,
watching the night as it envelops the moon.
Yet it cannot hide its entire light,
for the moon is the only one that has the right.
The right to stand above the Earth,
lighting it up since our ancestors' birth.

But the mysteries of the night don't end here,
for the moon regularly,
sometimes disappears.

The stars are the eternal residents of the sky,
living with the universe as its clock goes by.
They illuminate the world with their dim yet blinding light,
staying eternally in their unreachable heights.
They are the pinnacle of the unknown,
guarding the universe's secrets as if they are their own.

The night ends when the morning comes,
going right back to where it belongs.
Waiting patiently for the light to pass,
reliving the memories it already has.

As I see the sun rising up from the east,
it looks more like a ferocious beast,
devouring the light as it passes by,
lighting up the entire sky.

As I stop to think about the midnight moon,
I cannot help but think it was gone to soon,
taking with it the memories of life,
centuries upon centuries of an eternal fight.

As I live in this unfair world,
years go by as I grow old.
Countless days have passed since then,
days gone along with friends.
What's left is a loneliness that cannot be bent.

Now my only friend is the night.
It's the only one that has the right,
it's the only one that is sincere,
as it lights the silhouette of a little deer.

Now I sit lonely in my room,
watching the night as it envelops the moon.
Yet it cannot hide its entire light,
for the moon is the only one that has the right.
The right to stand above the Earth,
lighting it up since our ancestors' birth.

But the mysteries of the night don't end here,
for the moon regularly,
sometimes disappears.

The stars are the eternal residents of the sky,
living with the universe as its clock goes by.
They illuminate the world with their dim yet blinding light,
staying eternally in their unreachable heights.
They are the pinnacle of the unknown,
guarding the universe's secrets as if they are their own.