Darknesses

The sound of the wind makes this night colder still. Planted by the window, I watch the darkness dissolve in the rain, a stream of smeared black dripping from the branches. There’s a brown moth pressed against the windowpane, her wings folded serenely as if in prayer. With a gust of wind one of her wings lifts a little, just to settle down again the next moment.

Above the hills to the south a lightning strikes, breaking the midnight-sky into a jagged half.

Reluctantly, I leave the window, flip on the small shoji lamp in the hall and walk towards my bedroom:

keeping to the wall

it follows me

silently

into my dreams

my shadow

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Warmth

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In the grass, on the stones, on the gravel lane there are leaves: some golden, most brown. When a gust of wind comes, they give a little flutter as if trying to lift into the air one last time.

Here and there, I can hear a thin voice of a bird drifting from the trees along with the falling leaves.

In autumn every chirp, every breath of colour, every small blossom becomes precious. The winter will be long, cold and bleak.

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Huddled by the fireplace, I sip tea and watch honey melting at the bottom of the cup. I too yearn for warmth:

i don’t think

it’s only this cold wind today

that makes me crave

the warmth

of your embrace

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Always Sweetness Inside

honeydew

Tenderly

the sweetness

spilling out.

Posted in For Love of Our Planet, Tiny Poems | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 komentar

Shine in the Dark

cranberry

In the dark wood

something shines, red

 cranberries.

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Kako tiho je prišla jesen

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Kako tiho je prišla jesen. Morda je prišla s hribov, na krilih hladnega vetra, morda kar sama, globoko iz gozdov, zavita v šumeče krilo iz listja, ki sem in tja že dobiva rumen in oranžen nadih.

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Prišla je tudi na vrt, kjer njen mil sončev nasmeh odseva v vsakem cvetu, v sladkih sadežih in v zaspani pesmi malega žabca, ki se skriva pod velikimi listi bučke. S svojo hladno sapo se je dotaknila tudi slepcev, ki so se že zatekli v varno naročje zemlje.

Ure in ure opazujem lastovke, te najbolj vesele med pticami, ki dan za dnem proslavljajo tako modro, kot temno nebo in z neprestanim letanjem pripravljajo svoja drobna telesa na dolgo pot v kraje, ki jih ima sonce najraje. In opazujem deblo ter mirne suhe veje starega hrasta, ki ničesar ne obžaluje in raste čisto sam in podpira celo nebo.

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Ko z neba seže stara skrbna roka in prekrije gozd z mehko temo, izvezeno z zvezdami in svetlikajočo se nitjo mesečine, se s pesmimi ter kozarcem poletnega sonca stisnem h kaminu in berem besede ljudi, ki so mi tako ljubi in zaradi katerih je svet še lepši – tako lep, da že skoraj meji na bolečino.

Želim vam miren in prijeten teden.

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All the Sweet Delights of Summer

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Warm sun,

the faint scent of lavender and hay,

the ever-joyous carol of birds

 and all the sweet delights

of long summer days

stored within

this little red

cornelian cherry.

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Sunny Morning in the Mounatin Valley

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A nippy sunny morning with the sweet sad tang of autumn. Dewdrops in the grass glisten serenely and reflected in every one of them are my dear old mountains basking in the soft glow of the late summer sun.

The sound of cow bells echoes from beyond the woods, coming closer and closer until the loveliest young bulls appear on the meadow. They come to meet me, their big eyes deep dark pools of gentleness and peace.

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As we drive away I pray they be safe, I pray they stay alive for a long, long while, enjoying the meadows, the tiny white flowers and the soft sighing of winds in the old trees.

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Please, cherish all beings.

They are just like you, like me: they too wish to be happy and they don’t want to suffer.

Posted in For Love of Our Planet, Wildflower Moments | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Komentarjev