Written by: jan oskar hansen

A zephyr with 
breaths of April after rain
   “sleep not this summer day.”
He stirred, woke up 
and saw a heavenly face
eyes blue as the sky
and the skin of the apparition 
had the hue of 
un-profaned lips
only the newly born possess.
He smiled reached out
to touch the divine being,
but it had disappeared in a miasma
of the everlasting,
but leaving behind a hope as sweet
scent of jasmine.