O beauty of Art, your ecstasies known and forgotten!
Like an old house, like lovers apart -
like my own heart, locked, wild and besotted,
like the old paths that have lost their shadowy start.
Far, far is the river that flows in the valley,
the sorrowful trees bowing down to its flow.
The water flows deep, strong through glittery alley,
embracing ephemeral on its way home.
To a secret place, garden, a courtyard,
covered in ivies like memories still, still alive.
Hush! There’s a key hidden in wellspring
and there is someone willing to dive.
Two beautiful doves murmuring things to each other,
things that no one can know.
A language spoken betwixt but two lovers,
and fate silently smiling while winds angrily blow.
Every sand grain on the shore of the ocean,
every tiny stone dormant in meaningless vast
is waiting, silent’ weeping for someone
to waken its beautiful singular mind.
So is form always drawn to the essence,
calling its inner self back to its arms.
An invisible force keeping all things in their presence,
like the infinite depth in your eyes.29th of March, 2020
