Dying Star, Shining Angel

I am not a dying star dear friend,
I am already gone.
Still going;
Moved on from your gracious sight;
Tell them; yours and mine; tell them;
You are the special one and not I;
You are from heaven’s road,
Not I.

My wings, weak orbits, bright shine;
Dying light from deep time afar;
Fading away, my glow in a while.
Shimmering light though comes from your heart.
Steady pulse, your halo is clear.
Your gifts, my planets, different times.
The people of the lands see us apart.

An angel and a star
Tonight we are;
I with swings and you with wings;
Destined to be what we are;
You and I tonight we are;
One angel in flight, one traveling light.

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Photographs and painting outs;

Musics and writing downs;

All these arts that I am;

From the sounds of my heart;

To the views of my deepest dreams;

Beautiful that they are;

These I know.


Watch me do things weird;

As an artist, thinking different.

Consciously off the norm;

Without choice;

Making new things and things anew.


All these new creations;

I shall call them my own;

Proud as can be!

They were borne of my soul;

Each with a part of me.

Every lavender word;

Scratched off of my bones.

I let it be part of you;

As they are part of me.

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Leaving too soon

Heavy autumn clouds.
Rising flower sprouts.
Before the rain comes and before the lands flower and awe;
The bonds that we share might be all gone.

Leaving me before we were together,
makes me want you more.
Saying goodbye once and again in never,
makes me fight to not hold these words.

I will miss the warmth of your chest;
and ache without the cuddles of your neck.
My darling to be; now dearest lady that left;
I remember!
The times we were just free birds;
Singing in our neighborhood nests;
These times are harder than I imagined.
I thought these memories would keep me alive.
But the memories hurt,
and slowly I slip.

Leaving me before we were together
makes me want you more.
Saying goodbye once, and again in never,
makes me fight to not hold these words.
Rising flower sprouts and heavy autumn clouds;
The chance will not come when we shall watch these turn.

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