Untitled

Sleeping day, the sky yields

Dusk hastens, intemperate night

Slow strokes of indigo travel her pale

Words dress the willow, time held leaves

Paper light; like lanterns they sway

Kisses to the bough, its constant invitation

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Paul McGovern
    Oct 04, 2011 @ 20:31:07

    Time, facilitator – that which holds all, save love, for love is timeless, the perfect abandonment of the persistent arc. Convention, natural process – witnessed by many, so exquisitely described by few. Passage and process, existence and consequence.

    “Sleeping day, the sky yields”

    Beautifully arranged, an exploration of the passage of the metre of the world. To yield, a giving way to nature – I adore that concept.

    “Dusk hastens, intemperate night. Slow strokes of indigo travel her pale”

    A quickening, the pace of embrace – such majesty in the construction. Then duality, interlaced as balance, the inversion of speed. Sublime.

    “Words dress the willow, time held leaves
    Paper light; like lanterns they sway
    Kisses to the bough, its constant invitation”

    You have such an amazing ability to formulate connection – unique in your gaze always. Inevitability and time hold hands in some things, yet some are lucky enough to transcend expectation, ascend above the curve. They too hold hands, but their hands are held in love.

    I adore every line, as with all you write “Tsuneni akiraka ni seitsū”

    Reply

  2. andthedawn
    Oct 07, 2011 @ 11:41:17

    “slow strokes of indigo travel her pale ” such a tangible image. I want to reach put and touch this poem. So wonderfully visceral. X

    Reply

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