It is humming, buzzing around me
glaring faces with empty eyes
upon those beings, that shake the coldness
and leave the reddened leaves behind.
You look in the mirror, lighting a torch
for what you believe to find
but sunset also shimmer into black nights
leaving us, and so does also time.
Therefore I hasten to touch, in my desire
that love, that will excuse my memory
that hold your countenance still alive
and records of thine image, to be mine.
Despite my innocence of that golden time
you entered the lovely Spring of prime
hours that drained my blood and filled my eyes to tears
the purple pride that dwelt on my cheeks
and in my love’s veins that too fast died.
Happy and Powerful is remembrance of the past
that hold an opened door to such wonders
that let the late wind touch the miracles,
hit the depths of my solidity to the blast.
And lift my burning head to the gracious light.
Nov. 2017 k.c.