Sing for me

My body is your living trunk
and my yearning is your green leaves
Oh most elegant one, sing for me.
Sing for me please
I am here with ten thousand more ears.

true lover

She-He
is a true lover -
who pulls an old thorn
from the heart
and heals the wound
with Her-His sweet song.

please stay open

where you open
your arms for a hug,
light enters.

Stay open, dear one.
Please stay open.
Where-ever you may be,
you can hear everything sing.

today

There are some days
when you wake up from your deep slumber
and gradually open your eyes
and watch yourself blossom and everyone around you
smells your fragrance and become drunk.
today is that day, my dear friend.
today is that day.

your warm lips

tripped over failed stories
and broken dreams
I fell into the depth of your beauty
Oh what a blessing!
into the equators of your warm lips.

sweet full moon

I am having hickups, dear one, and the heart has publicly
  admitted this union with you.
I spin poetry from the well of your fragrance,
 from the pollen of your  smiles
and recite it to the sweet full moon.
That is how I wanted to be more present,
 more caring to you today.

This direct talk

This direct communion with you, beloved one
This direct talk with you, (that sometimes angers even the saints)
Makes this poem sing like a child
Who has not learned yet
How to worry about tomorrow.

laughing out loud

For uncountable years, Beloved friend,
I have taken myself
very seriously. Very seriously, I mean.

I frowned most of the times and

Walked briskly as if with fear.
But ever since I understood God's brilliant jokes

I forgot everything else and
Started laughing out loud.

the elegance

I look at you for a second
or listen to you or feel you
and tremble by your presence.

This is the elegance, beloved one
that reminds me who I am.

when I bow to your beauty

when i bow to your beauty
the west and the east and north and south
merge into the ball of light.
conditioning of all sorts, thought-mental imprisonments,
attachments, all concepts and the pain of separation
turn into water-vapors and dissipate.

innocence bursts like a splendid wheat farm,
like a fountain of daybreak behind those rugged, massive mountains
and the heart begins to chant a sublime song
that flowers dream all night
when I bow to your beauty.

ownership

When you see me in the street,
I am just a tiny drop of water flowing to the near by pond,
or a drop of rain flying to reach the earth
when you have a little patience to look deeper,
you can watch the bursting of the sea out of my chest.
My heart is not my mine anymore.
when you sit in the orchard of love,
you no longer cling to idea of ownership.



.

this nearness

I touched your hands only once. Yes only once.
I have not even seen your face
Nor heard your footfalls.
But why is this nearness, this knowingness

is so piercingly familiar,  so intimate, so alive.
and so sharp like a hunter's knife?

this energy

Most radiant one:
with this energy inside,
I know I can move the mountains.
Instead I wanted to sit in the woods
and sing for you.

This is who you're

everyone I see is very beautiful, very beautiful
with a large piece of blue sky around their face.
For heaven's sake, where are you from? I would say
we are emigres from Africa, from the Middle East,
from Oceania, from Europe, from Asia, from Latin America... They would say.
You're not from anywhere else. You're the sky. The moon that dances all night long

after everyone else goes to sleep is your lover. The stars are your eyes and the wind is your music. The earth is your flesh and the waters are your blood.This is who you're, my beautfil friends.