skyborn

there is
a vesper star
searching for solace
aflutter on the wings
of a passing blizzard
delicately cascading
her cyan shimmer
along the cello nocturne
of a secret dream.

there are hands
captured by
a dawn of butterflies
touching the holy sun
with the soul of azure sea
and ashen clouds.

and not a word is needed,
not a doubt,
not a sound.

everything is trembling.
everything is bright.

 

(for N.)

appassionata

we are separate spheres
of a supernova,
collapsed silhouettes
under the birthing nebula
of a midnight lantern

exploding within radiance
to become one
as remnants of a dead star

and i vanish willingly
to this smoldering
like delicate violet violence
while the expanding universe
echoes the solar wind
bearing fragmented life
to unseen new worlds
in its infinite motion

yet my only feeling
is the collision
of our chaotic dark
with memories of galaxies
burnt apart by muted aches
of a bleeding sun

 

tea house in summer (III)

scented smoke of red berry candles
mingles with lush august air,
the late hour blooming with ripeness of sounds:
nocturnes for the forest, a vigil of whispers,
a gentle weeping near the flowing river,
a lullaby of secret sapphire bells,
a wind’s jasmine sigh of relief.

satori steams the antique air with pastel temples,
alights on reverie’s transparent branches
revealing the brilliance of dreamblue fireflies
as the remedy is charmed with hands like cotton
to reach for the soul of nectar’s rustling light
wrapping it in silken lime perfumes;

on the porch
where the day left its emerald mark
crystal moonbeams sleep soulfully

and in the musing moment
when obscure clouds solemnly rever
the quiet of a wood path
and leaves of hushed willows show the way
towards the valley’s meadow shelter
within his gaze
shines the birth of a tiny diaphanous world,
abode of sacred ether songs.

 

 

(yelena 2014)

dark and light

 

i’ve met light-bearers,
self-fulfilling prophets
looking into the mirror
to worship the glory
of their own infinite bliss,
speaking words of love
and luring the lost
to lands of poisoning sweets.

i’ve met shadow loners,
quiet soaring spirits
traveling along somber realms,
silently embracing the weak
and giving a tired kiss
to the hopeless,
whispering in a language
of unnoticed nocturnal dreams.

black

 

beneath waning clouds
the train is running
towards a lonely city
dwelling in limbo
of silence

as from afar she reads
steel minutes on walls
with her hands
in wired braille.

line after line withers
yet she prays the light
stays light
while stars fall on roads
where his steps sparkle
and turn to dawn.

but her world
closes all doors
and opens
the infinite night.

 

summer wine

by the light
of silver lanterns
hope blooms silently.

find it.

find it in the depth of being
that shatters the glass
of charred memories.

lotus of the eventide
sprouts towards a door
of your reverie
and i look at you
realizing i’m there too.

meadows unfold
and wave the soul
of faraway centuries.

the dream is an eternal bird.
the night is your smile.

 

 

(yelena 2014)

presence

 

roofs sing golden at sunset,
stones carefully shape
heavy pavements
and my steps, one by one,
in the street,
argent and tobacco-flavored.

i’m here
at last

after
being away, for too long,
through the fog of ether;

i unchained the song and
now silently stroll
along the dusky smiles
of passers-by.

there are doors behind
and centuries
where my silhouette
was a melting ghost
jailed in the years
when i didn’t realize
the void
behind storms and fears
and drowned
in the non-existence
of limbo hours.

there is tenderness too,
and that is 
the only  thing i hold
(yet let it fly)

i move towards
the inner home
and pave the path
by ashes of the unspoken
inventing a new language
to speak
with the heart of earth
and the soul of night

.

.

.

(yelena 2014)