FrancesWrites

29. Apr, 2018

It's strange

the names we call faces, things, places:

take a day worth of pain,

longing and remembrance;

take the lilies and the daffodils,

the orchids and the roses,

how they shine in the twilight

afterglow for the last time 

before night -- 

and then suddenly their scents

intensify and prick your 

nostrils and heart -- 

how suddenly these sweetest 

creatures turn silent, mute, 

sinister even,

when your call for a 

listening heart

is not answered.

At that moment, in the bitter-sweet

pang of silence, when 

the yearning to be seen

is sharp like broken glass,

when we stand still listening

for a sign, wearing 

our eyes out, when the moon

appears in the evening sky

and the first owl chants 

its spells -- then, and only then,

we discover the mystery -- 

as open as the infinite sky

as raw as our need

as deep as the unstoppable

pull of love -- 

then, and only then,

we find out the true names

of flowers.

27. Apr, 2018

The rainbow of ecstasy bridges sky and earth

in my speaking body like a tree spanning

cosmic dimensions.

My hands of music spread scented cream

on your fingers, palms and arms.

Thus, my hands speak to yours

and your body resonates with 

the energy of my unspoken love.

Beyond words -- deeper than surfaces -- 

emotions bloom amd emerge

like a lotus flower thrusting forth

from mud.

Wise bodies float in silent music

and dance in starry vertigos:

there -- in the eye of the cosmos -- 

we meet, beyond conventions.

19. Apr, 2018

Why not plunge into the emerald waters

of the untold stories of this place

where nostalgia and longing

for a sweet tomorrow cross,

where the present is a strand

full of small white shells

and pebbles licked into shape

by hungry waves.

 

Not far away, on the beach, an old man

speaks to a girl with almond-shaped eyes

as neat as a madonna's canopy in a vineyard

where old gods lurch in waiting,

only dozing off for a while.

 

Soon, dawn will come.

Soon, the old gods will wake up

and reclaim their summerlands.

3. Apr, 2018

The wind blew. On the wooden cross landed a raven.

I scattered daisies on the lonely tomb.

The bird grew into a winged man,

he turned to me and said he was a prince.

He pledged his deathless love with his golden ring.

On his black wings we flew to his castle

 

Up in the mountains to his nest-castle.

I marveled at the winged prince-raven.

On my finger shone bright his golden ring.

From afar I watched the human tomb

and asked how a raven could be a prince.

He said my piety turned him back into a man.

 

Since I had buried the skeleton of a man,

his spirit could but soar with me to his castle

where I was deemed fit company for its prince.

Soon night would fall. Once more he would be raven

-- a curse had decreed so -- and fly yonder to his tomb;

In that sad hour, I took off his ring:

 

I didn't want to be a prisoner with a golden ring.

At that, the raven gave a hoarse cry, like a man.

He flew and perched on the cross, on his tomb.

Alone, I beheld the forlorn scene from the castle.

When I left, I heard the croaking raven

say goodbye. This is how I met the raven prince.

 

On a windy island there was once a raven prince

who gave me his deathless love with a golden ring.

He came back from hell in the shape of a raven

and hoped my love would turn him back into a man.

His black wings had served him well on the top of the castle.

Tears rose to his black eyes, as I marched past his tomb.

 

Truth be told, I lingered a while near his tomb.

I smiled and said goodbye to the winged prince

and prayed for his lonely fate below the stone castle.

I looked back one more time. In his beak he held the ring.

In the bay, I sat in the barge, but couldn't forget the winged man.

The wind carried a black feather across the lake: the last gift of the raven.

 

I cried my last tears on his tomb, as he held out his golden ring,

the lovely winged prince who dreamed to be a man,

his forlorn castle, a nest for the dreams of an enchanted raven.

 

Picture by courtesy of Tom Swinnen via pexels.com

26. Mar, 2018
Great Giveaway!

Dear Friends,

This is my invitation to you.

If you feel like pampering yourself, with tons of free ebooks, audio trainings and other free resources, you are welcome to the great giveaway hosted by Rev. Anne Preusel and Sherry Bowers.

I am also taking part. Please, check out the giveaway! It is full of great gifts.

Just skip the special offer of the day, and you will be redirected to the huge list of free gifts.

There is no catch.

Thank you for being part of my world!