Love Haiku 7:9
7
my forgotten love
at dawn the light of your smile
your voice calls my name
8
once upon a time
our laughter rustled the leaves
autumn glow splendor
9
another springtime
blossoms in the lost meadow
where first i found you
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by Erika Varga
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Towards April Twilight
orchestra of colors:
magenta and tangerine
lemon and ruby
set the sky in flames
barefoot I walk
on moist grass
thickened
by afternoon rains
coagulated winter numbness
dissipates
with the air’s whisper
of impending warmth
memories swept by autumn winds
reborn in tender green branches
resplendent
in the fading glow of the setting sun
the heart’s joy and yearning
awaken once again
towards April twilight.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by FeroBanjo @pixabay
Come Back to the Garden
Come back to the garden
you have forgotten
after moments have passed
innumerable
as the evening stars —
behold:
the tear-drenched ebony loam
blossomed into clouds
of fragrant peonies,
fallen lilac petals
awakened
topaz and amethyst lilies —
Come back to the garden
you have forgotten
there you will find me
gathering the flowers.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Perchance I would meet you again
this wintry evening
out in numb forgotten fields
of longing,
I would
touch once more the warmth
of your calloused hands,
rest in the snugness
of your tight embrace —
I would
drown in the wine
of your tender eyes,
slumber
in the lullaby
of your gentle voice —
Perchance I would meet you again
this wintry evening,
the silent
white of snow would turn
into summer dew,
parched stalks of grass
into golden daffodils.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Gyoza and Broken Hearts
Graduate school
econometrics
cryptic
to my right-leaning brain,
when in my puzzlement
an angel descended
from distant constellations —
a comely Adonis,
face sculpted
by Jirisan mountain
winds,
eyes and lips suspended
in a perpetual smile —
He took my hand,
showed me how to
solve equations
step by step,
pencil strokes on the offensive,
neglecting fear of failure to find
proofs of theorems —
In interweaving moments
he would prepare
gyoza,
chopsticks on teflon,
our measly meal—
Tonight
I cook gyoza the way
he taught me,
a different life, no more
theorems to prove —
I recall from long ago
a time of heartbreak
while parting ways
for another love.
D. G. Vachal © 2023
lilies, sparrows and grass 
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