words create worlds
I was 13 when I first read this poem. Of course, it wasn’t the one I was supposed to read as homework. We were studying Eminescu’s poetry for some years, each year one or two poems, usually the ones that were either about nature or considered “patriotic” by the communist regime at that time. But
And here we are, between the half moon and the setting sun, between the leafless limbs of winter, between the purple of the lake and blue cold sky, between the histories, between the times- the walls of screens, the squares of our lives, enchanted by the fear, entrapped in perfect form while dreaming of our
A silence reigns inside the bracket in my heart- (A hollow brimmed with diamond shades) a pause between the hammering old valves (weighing the scars that hope kept open) comparing times of past in painting future loves, (silence reverberates in chords untouched) a quietness that reigns the meanings of a life. (inside the bracket
Staves stung by voiceless birds on their flight far from this fall, too dry, too soon, a boon to the soil, trails on a too-blue sunset scratching the sea of my sky- instantly healed by the memory of ‘Jesus loves you’ written in white on the clear blue sky over Orlando in a far distant
Do not step on the dead leaves (bent veins still mourn their youth) until they decompose (an agony of memories still haunts their spine) from vibrant green, to yellow, then to brown, (in shriveled bodies laid on egotistic ground,) do not step on their shadows on the pavement (the fizzled dust of once majestic highs)
