At the end of winter daylight
when lemon passion glows
with the ardor of periwinkle,
at unexpected moments
I remember

a melody long forgotten,
jubilant as a nightingale’s song,
that led my fledgling
heart to soar
towards the blazing stars
once upon the sands of time —

Now, when it matters no more,
I recall the scribbled ink upon the paper,
a voice that called my name,
at twilight’s edge
when my heart beholds the colors,
the warm farewell
of the setting sun.

D. G. Vachal © 2014