I Sent You a Rainbow Arc
I sent you
a rainbow arc,
and half a moon.
I stirred the seven colors
on seven autumn canvases,
and I held the rain suspended,
pushing it toward you.
The rain became a breeze,
a fragrance
of my dream.
I sent you
a rainbow arc,
and half a sun.
I stirred the seven colors
on seven winter canvases,
and I held the snow suspended,
not letting it fall upon your brow.
I watched
your gaze
fall
into puddles of rain.
I sent you
a rainbow arc,
with half of me.
With a hot magnet,
I pull your shadow.
You vanish into the darkness
of this night,
where hope shatters,
and in an abyss,
it burns.
To Your Dream
To your dream,
I climb
with the flight of a bird
to seven ash-gray mountains.
I rest
in seven meadows of hope,
and I come
to your shadow,
sitting upon your brow,
without touching you,
with eyelashes like the moon of the mountain.
I pause
to touch the dream,
and drink thirstily with longing.
I feel
that my tears betray me,
when your breath
delivers
the ice that the soul
holds inside.
Under an Umbrella
Through my glasses,
I mistake you for the mist;
You scatter with the wind
through the rain.
I, half-drunk,
wander the street beneath an umbrella,
still hoping
to see you there.
You come toward me —
The umbrella shrinks,
enough for one body
and one soul.
When, on my shoulder,
You rest your head,
the rain pours down
a waterfall of light.
Through your eyes,
I cross above the fog;
the clouds disperse
like rays across the sky.
Beneath the shelter
of the umbrella, the world renews –
A world reborn
in sunlit rain.
