*
it’s part of nature
to wait it took me
a long time to get
it to taste the truth
of such statement
beauty of flowers
starts in the cycle
the seed growing
in darkness eyeing
the sky smiling to
the breeze falling
asleep at night so
many times until
it’s fall come in
time that is a
repeat that
is patience at his best
.
.
.
.
.
*
transparency
is something I
share with fish
I’m suspended
at last a gracious
moment they
stick closer if I
hold in stillnes
even more come
what is there
re generation
wisdom shared
I wish I could
last forever in
salty waters
weightless
.
.
.
.
More poems of this collection: “Crossing Rivieras” can be found on this blog with the search botton to your right.
.
*
mid day of August’s
mid month some echoes
of a church service
on a television where
there are very few visions
a small breeze rises
awakening me to
a tiny drip drop
a small precipitation
into myself until
an airplane breaks
the clouds in two
.
.
.
.
.
*
I satisfy myself
in circles of light
stillness and dances
it’s the music
within that slows
us down and we
wonder and return
to these lovely
planes
a step or two
to understanding
the sound
silence broken
by golden lights
we curl up
we are being
picked up
.
.
.
.
“Not Rosaries Nor Missals” is a collections of poems started on July 2013. The poems, about a spiritual journey, have the habit of popping up here, for a maximum count of seven, in July of each year.
The older poems of the collection can be found, and read, using the search window to the right of this screen.
.
.
*
we sit in the sun today
still as the mountains me
and the cat by the pool
he has this strange habit
drinking the blue
water smelling of chlorine
I have the one of constantly
thinking – observing
while moving words around
we both had our fills
as we sit
immobile shedding sleep
.
.
.
.
.
*
wind tending
the lonely trees
too tall to reach
a few visits here
and there clouds
birds the music
played by the wind
kissed by the sun
caressed by rain they
get more attention
without moving
some of us do
.
.
.
.
.
*
eternity roams
inside me I can’t
help but travel
forever wondering
the mind and space
on earth as in dreams
seeking some order
chasing the waters
harmony to fill me
deep from the inside
to make me a lake
alas at home
.
.
.
.
.
*
I notice the silence
not anymore the chirping
or the chatter of the wind
I notice the hummingbird
trying stillness by furious
flapping I stop engaging
myself I let go of my eyes
frantic grasping of letters
on a page putting the book
where it was letting
my head down as
beheaded falling
.
.
.
.
.
*
I recon I could be
creative as the sun
everyday making
enchantments new
shadows new patterns
filling up infinite palettes
it moves slowly
waltzing around
we a revolving object
apparent stillness
for a never
ceasing creativity
.
.
.
.
.
*
under or above
removed from usual
grounds from valleys
to enter quieter realms
stillness and marvel
to be marginal
observing whether
with fish or birds
a new silence
lingering in
eternity
.
.
.
.
.
*
time earned to spend
silently in isolation
unseen
to ponder
from afar a gracious
life filled with opportunities
I’m changing vocabulary
words such as trouble
pain and asperity
as an answer on my path
church bells
breaking the stillness
filling the midday air
.
.
.
.
.
*
before is the bird’s
song and the occasional
car passing by
then the refrigerator
freezing while shaking
the hot water boiler
or an airplane
far away the mailman
comes dropping
volumes of papers
we need to lift glance
at a minute then dispose
that’s how days roll
away how solitude
serves me well
.
.
.
.
.
*
sitting
hushed – heat isn’t the cause
.
willfully watchful of this silence
pregnant of barely perceptible sounds
.
the sky one solid color
.
velvety wings moving
producing no noise they found
no obstacle
.
not even the humming birds
make noise I rest at last
.
desire raises
.
not to move
ever abiding surveilling
the light severing the valleys
when it falls
.
.
*
resto
immobile e non per il caldo
.
per osservare meglio questo silenzio
denso di suoni appena percettibili
.
il cielo un colore unico intenso
.
vedo ali vellutate muoversi
senza rumore, non trovano ostacolo
.
neppure il colibrì fa rumore
finalmente riposo
.
il desiderio sale
.
di non volersi muovere
mai più per restare a osservare
la luce cadendo tagliare le valli
.
.
(The audio versions can be found at the end of each poem here http://wp.me/phPCu-IE)
.
*
.
sitting on warm steps
on a summer night
at a church entrance
I did not visit
.
ahead is a gulf
lit with tiny lights
trees of different kinds
breathing in twilight
.
inside is a river
restless and charged
I try stillness in vain
nature comforts me
.
.
*
no wind moaning
no shutters flapping
.
doors standing still
in the darkest night
.
heat rising piercing through
as light enters the crack
.
at daylight no crickets
or frogs telling stories
.
just the heavy stillness
of some summer nights
.
away from breezed seas
laying awake interspersed
.
.
