Joel charvillat Poet Prose Poetry

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Les couleurs du coeur

Marvelous glow of life, his heart weeps far from you.
Silence is silver, his pain is gold.
Your words are diamonds, carved to make every moment shine,
to allow him to be himself without vanity or arrogance.

You are his gentle pearl.
The day already fades, night carries him far from you.
As darkness comes, he finds your face again.
Your smile awakens his being, giving back the softness of a sunbeam.

Love — without her the words ring false,
and in his dreams flowers are born at his feet
from all the tears he sheds.

Far away, the sea covers the sound of his sobs.
His steps falter and he collapses on the sand.
His hand caresses the golden, tender grains,
a light breath of air licking his skin.

He feels what exists, even as raindrops run down his cheeks.
He still allows himself to believe in the sun of love.

Are life’s dreams not the walks of moments gone by?
Or are they the shooting stars of joys yet to come?
He wanders as evening falls,
the orange colors of the sun bursting on the horizon.
His gaze fixed, he softens the lights
and rediscovers a face of love.
                    Yours.

Joël Charvillat

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