Beyond the sea’s touch – skin moist with sick sorrow shines –
the sad waves call out.
The midnight stone’s music,
it’s very loud –
a whisper between stars
the spiderweb’s choice,
Butterfly Lord, this music is for you.
There curtains, there the moon, the light is good—
Deep in the soul, a flame burns.
Covered with a beautiful blanket,
the clouds collapse under their own weight –
Who knows where the graves are –
who knows where the graves are?
They’re all his—
Always, where these miracles are scattered
everything is there – a mirror.
***NOTE: The shorter stanzas follow the 17 syllable “rule” of haiku. For this reason, I tagged the post as Haiku.
















