Momentary Blooms
Are there memories
senseless
to logical sentiments,
written off as never-
happenstance hypotheses
by mountain goat-bearded
wise sages —
why then
do rainbow whirlwinds
hover over peripheries
of my befuddled mind,
radiate
in the recessive
penumbra
of my tranquil heart —
thoughts of loves
long forgotten
momentarily bloom
like purple
crocus petals
on the frigid soil
of weather-beaten
March gardens —
why then
do they disappear
in April.
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Image by Couleur @Pixabay
End of February
delicate brush strokes,
embroidery of deer
mouse tracks,
red fox paw prints
melt in the snow —
music
in the white silence,
aspen trees
trembling in the wind
put on flesh and sinew —
long have I shivered
in the cold,
long have I huddled
by the fire —
I only know
the long-awaited promise
draws near.
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Image by Oyvind Holmstad @ Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pilegrimskulturlandskap_21.jpg
1
flock of geese in flight
black petals against the sky
can you hear their call
on a sunset in winter
discordant harmonicas
2
trees in winter’s sun
cast long afternoon shadows
snow on their branches
wingéd angels garbed in white
singing praise in high places
D. G. Vachal © 2025
Images by Hans Benn @pixabay; Fietzfotos@pixabay
Autumn
in the long platinum
light of the gloaming
when pearls of time arrive and depart
with the wind-swept leaves —
I feel your nearness
your gazing eyes are falling stars
from the ebony sky,
your tender voice rustles the fern fronds
as you call my name —
tell me,
have I spoken your name with tenderness
at suspended moments
before the turning of a hundred seasons —
beyond the ocean tides of forgetting
have you come back to remember
what I have already forgotten —
Autumn in the gloaming,
mottled colors
cloaked in the deep purple mist
of my remembrances.
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by James Wheeler @ Pixabay
Could I Have Loved You More
could I have loved you more
at moments
when my heart
refrained from speaking —
would I at springtime sing
with tulips and apple blossoms
when as for love
there are no words?
silent was I in summer
amidst the warbled
music of bluebirds,
silent still
when peonies bloomed
scarlet
upon the velvet grass —
in autumn splendor
could I have loved you more
standing there
adorned in sunset gold and amethyst,
my muted syllables
would be stifled
by the melody
of violins and woodwinds —
when winter ivory feathers
clothe the swaying birch branches
would there be words of colors
to paint a love
more than a heart
can hold?
D. G. Vachal © 2024
Image by Alain Audet @pixabay
lilies, sparrows and grass 
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