The love you hold in your hand
hold on to, for just a moment,
add to it the nectar dewdrops of dawn,
warm its quivering shoulders
with the shawl of the morning light,
round out prickly edges
with the peaking tides of the full-orbed moon —
Only then afterwards
may you open the lotus hand,
unravel the fragrance of pink petals,
caress the breath-light feathers,
watch the wings soar skybound
towards sun and shadow,
beyond the green and blue.
D. G. Vachal © 2013
Winter Love Song
Winter alighted this morning without warning:
a swan, snow-capped amidst the green
river bulrushes,
the garrulous cicadas have gone mute with the frogs,
the buzz of ebony bees,
no more fireworks of lightning,
nor heart-pounding thunder,
there is only silence
palpable as ivory snow-bound clouds —
Take my hand,
smitten by December winds,
warm my fingers with the hearth fires
of hours together spent,
when tears overflowed the jars of laughter,
and the laughter drowned the tears,
the letting go yet never forsaking,
when we believed in the loyal light of day
and dreamt through the darkest,
elongated nights —
Winter alighted this cold morning
without warning —
take my hand,
smitten by December winds.
© 2013 D. G. Vachal
*** Photography : Swan Blue by Philippe Sainte-Laudy
Morning Light
Fervent feet step into aisles
of a buttressed cathedral
shod in shoes the colors of the sky,
vitelline sun,
clay after the rain —
Knees bend into kneeling
pads of the prism,
blinking eyelids
descend into oblivious
oceans of praise —
At the the stroke of celestial
harp strings,
earthenware vessels of infinite
colors coalesce
into a niveous porcelain vase:
flawless as the morning light,
the morning’s evanescent white.
D. G. Vachal © 2013
lilies, sparrows and grass 