Bright pink clouds, Sun’s dying breath.
A final push, and a final shot.
Climbing the sky, an indigo depth.
A daily war, and a nightly loss.
Full darkness now, no moon tonight.
A devastating defeat, life on its knees.
Hours and hours, no natural light.
Still life continues, the bugs and the trees.
A brightening starts, to gray from black.
A new day, a new battle.
Rising sun peeks above and starts to attack.
We wait now, in bright blue, for its next death rattle.

There once was a man from Mumbai
Whose face had the laziest eye:
     It opened at noon
     While the other as soon
As the sun rose was focused and spry.

I see her in smiles of the living room fens,
When sunlight hits wet on the mire.
Between the waves that lick the bights,
On the steeps of the fjords as sound.
In the vibrations of breezes on stamens,
Like a gentle resonance of pollen on pistils.
In the currents of a universe as a celestial,
Through these fluctuations as mysteries.
Deep out like some starry cosmos,
Far out like some alien culture.
On proverbial outskirts as hypothetical fringes,
As like waterfalls after rains have swelled.
By the puddles stirred together as unison,
In the droplets as ink splatters join paper.
Moon sets as like blues jazz records end,
On mornings mist full as classical pieces.
Like indescribable ideas as beautiful emotions,
When pebbles fall as sand by the ocean.
As worlds collide like harp concertos,
Through chords of movement as cell division.
For like den to hare as ribs to hearts,
Like mind to matter as sight for hawk.

Music of life,
How I long to sing with you
Into eternity & for perpetuity.
What is the song,
For but us as one?

When I see the sunlight in the morning,
I am happy for everyone else,
somebody can´t sleep, is mourning,
the other one smiling in health.

The sun has a powerful force
to heal every state in our mind
and fix situations so worse,
creating all souls so kind.

But never underrestimate the moon,
powerful companion of earth,
if the morning comes, then soon
you will see it again, if you search.

Sunlight creates all shadows,
moonlight brings light in the night,
there are always smiles and sorrows,
there is always goodness and fight.

- Tarmo Selter -
2024

If I could gather all the stars,
And place them in a bowl,
If I could capture a sunset
And frame it for your wall.
If I could scrape off sunlight's glow,
That kisses the green grass,
Blend the mixture gently,
And serve it in a glass.

I would, I would,
A thousand times or more,
To bring you closer to the beauty
Of all you're longing for.

We live in the sunshine of our broken loves,
Where window curtains flow like pouring water from the aqueducts.

Sunlight is the memory of an old world, and we are just
Watchmakers who labor at the trumpets of time
As if to blow from the mouthpiece and unwind
The second hands and derelict hours of our luminous grief.
So too shines the scintilla of frost that covers the ancient wheat,
Snow falls like the listenings of lovers in the dark, and we are just
Cartographers of snowflakes, mapmakers of frozen eyes,
To zone the parallelogram of her strands of hair across the sky.

These and these and these
Were never ours.

"I have a hundred photos lined up to be posted.
I edit them, I think about them, and I let them be.
I let them be in my gallery for the right time.

And the right time never comes.

Days become months, and months at times turn into years.
But the right time never comes.

I don't know why!

But it is alright!

It is alright because I am not in a race, nor am I in a hurry to tell my story.
I don't mind waiting at the stop like this bus.
I don't mind being forgotten about
Or just not talked about for days.

But I, in my own way, after making those stops, I will carve my road ahead.
Uncover the true beauty of my story
In the most unusual way.
Just like how sunlight lights up a simple road and makes patterns with the help of shadows.

Shadows have their own ways.
Shadows glorify those pretty rays.