I
Hungry birds' laugh, wind blows bones from empty nests, below they forget the silence, the secret under persistent illusion Everything can become a desert, the love that comes unhindered, the vines that cover our breath, the shrine of sights unintruded I shall not accuse clouds or linger in the sun, springs will bring with adequate speed the forgotten wine of SilencesII
In the wild among ruins' sculptures in smoke we saw death in each other, and love became possible, branches perforating skies, sharp rocks drawing blood from a weakened sun, the penetration of air into the blooming skins, and we knew the penitence of sins against Silence Tongues of fire submerged in the welkin, the melding landscapes of bodies reunited, fire that is flesh fruit to the palate, wines to eyes' flooding brims, dissolve, for nothing exceeds SilenceIII
A bird exhales it's bones into the air and the rain, the old rain, fills them with flesh, now both lovers praise the pain that frees bodies of limit Warm serpent's molting feathers and tongues race through the wind and lower through whim to observe our purity The great Silence of empty skins The glooming that starts within we're we meet shadowy and complicit, in dragonfly lands behind noise, look at the pond: . It holds all Silence
Pieter Breughel
I will leave only a comment of silence. Nice one.
"nothing exceeds silence" wow Benno!
A lot of strong images and ambiguous emotions shining through these Words!
Great job, now I am gonna go read it again:)