Tecelã de Sonhos - Poesia D'água

II. MEMENTO VIVERE

i.

tell me of your last slumber
when the hallowed creek water
washed your hands softly
and the dahlias became redder
melting away with milk.
tell me of the time the swallow cried your name
and the giggling pine trees
took their last breath
calling for you
tell me, do the sparrows know of you, dearest death?

you and the violets in your lap
golden by the hour
while the nightingale up on the branches
sang of future tragedy.
when the dying maple cried one last time,
your hair fell black as a waterfall at night,
soaked in scented lavender dreams dripping ichor from tangled curls,
your mouth whispered along the birds melody:

"come, dear foxes
winter met its end
the last snowflake melted
and flowers now overgrown the land.
spring came quickly upon us, this year
as a freshly lit candle,
blown out by the swirling wind.
winter went away and so then
came joyful spring.
stars blow colorful kisses
and the rain is sticky with ambrosia;
spring is glad to be home again,
so its reflections upon the fields
are of youthful spirit."

the winter's end and spring's eve
is the time to blow the lights and pray,
best on your knees;
the veil melts thin
and so may She hear us
and bring from lenient dreams a new rebirth
for all the things that need to die
to live again.

in a blow of flowers
and feverish dreams
and bitter sweet slumber,
you came, as an eveningsong;
mellow and drunken.
you set your bare feets upon this mortal earth
and giggled at the shy trees.
the sparrow's o so old now dreamt of you
and with you he crossed the liquid veil,
to the other side he flew.
to and fro with phantoms
he now flies youthful across the shore.

ii.

the evening song of death
grew closer as the day turned black
and cascats of dark veils
were placed upon the widow pale's face.
riddled with sorrow she violently cried
wishing again for her daughter's rebirth
mother nature's tears fell upon the ground
as seeds on fertile land
preparing then,
the return of her oldest son.

a new summer rose
from the bottom of a lake
dream-soaked with dripping sun
- a lullaby of golden lights
across the fragile sky.

mother nature's still cries
for when one of her children is alive
the other three are beyond her shaky hands
on a land beyond nature's quivering touch; destined to all creatures
who vague within this earth.

the tall trees whisper last secrets to the hummingbirds,
on sun rays they swirl and dance
while their leaves are carried away by the dusk's eve wind,
that falls mildly upon the dying forest.

autumn's requiem sings of memento mori
and more important:
memento vivere.
for all creatures face an end
and so may they sing and dance
for rebirth falls gently
on those who lived joyfully.

winter came again
melting into a white dream of snow
the fields froze and some souls moved to beyond.
a time solitude is written into poems
and words flow as grey smoke from tall chimneys.
a time to live quietly
beside an amber candle
humming along the sweet singing ice
and the thic giggling wind.

a home so warm and lovely,
to sit and watch
the palid snowflakes fall from a sky so white and mistful
that the ground seems no different
and the in-between
becomes foggy
and of this world disappears.

iii.

the fox came at my door and asked for refuge,
he said "until it's my time to move on"
"it will come quickly, as snowflakes slipping from winter's core" he said after a pause.
i gave him food and a book
and i read it until we both became heavy with slumber.

he never woke up and neither did i
we met on the lovely shore,
we saw death a few steps away
she was giggling and playing with the sparrow,
"what an odd friendship" said the fox, - swimming away across the waves.
i kept myself on the same place.
i have written of death,
but never saw it outside wonder-soaked pages.

along the fox little by little
the land became known to us.
life quickly became easier,
we had already learned how to live again;
beside so many souls,
brothers and sisters from another time, we said.

iv.

i melt away from old memories, peacefully,
only nostalgia was left to reign.
it rose drowsy when the sun fell with kisses,
blessing me beyond this plain.

v.

a farewell to mother nature i wrote in water
beside the singing of a lovely wren
on a tumblestone by a calm sea
"until next year dear mother,
      on winter we meet again!"