'no Quatrains, But Refrains' - Part 2
(a poetry collection)
for The Beloved and in honor of Mevlana Jalallidin Rumi
… beyond its usual flavor, the lemon is only as bitter as compared to the sweets preceding
it… cleanse your taste buds with it and turn the favor on its head with the caress, again, of
sweets upon your tongue, forgetting the bite so lately of lemon…
* * *
… the long-suffering of love comes at a price more rewarding than the fornication of hatred
in lust…
* * *
… when come the rabbits from their burrows will come the song of day; dance its rhythms,
for living is ceremony, a marriage, even of sorrow to sorrow…
* * *
… perfume isn´t released until flower-petals are crushed by pulses of the heart…
~~~~~~~
You refuse to acknowledge that I love you until you have wounded me, then sit beside the
river of my blood, waiting… for what neither of us know…
* * *
… perhaps it is illusion, for which none can be blamed, in the hope that such rivers will come
together for one heartbeat of forever… before disappearing… forever…
* * *
… illusions don´t matter when you see the best of yourself reflected by the beloved in the
garden pool of your affection…
Copyright © Wrulf Gunkl-Vonglashaus | Year Posted 2010
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