Shell
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From the nest of mountain heights where wolves lie
and where the chorus of the pack determined our vote.
We go along the dusty road over the hill
to the shade under the vine where the bread crust awaits us.
A meal while my eyes caress yours
and then we run along the road to the deep waters
and we seek the story of days gone by
which gives hope for a new life.
*
In the web of your words, a doubt grain has been caught,
and the tremble of your pure heart
summoned a thunderbolt to the hills below Olympus.
The dance of life begins,
while the feet on the wet sand slide next to the turbulent water
around the cradle that I built with my own hands
from cherry wood.
Lots of twin kids holding hands
he laughs and runs around us happily.
*
Your high heel dips in laughter
with coffee and sweet cakes from the past.
Melted by my hands, the sun in your hair
makes the filigree embroidery of love.
You see in the distance a ship of people from the southern seas
and pomegranate fruits falling into the sea.
I’m your fear diver
as I jump into your soul-blue depths,
where I look for a place for my grain of sand
and in the sweet effort,
I already see the beauty of the whiteness of pearls.
*
On the fortress above the mystical city
we are stepping on ancient walls
that gave birth to all of us
and to our ancestors.
We talk about their sad fates and the blood spilled on the stone
as they fought for their sons’ lives.
We watch the sunset over the distant hills
, and your picture speaks
“Know that everything will be fine in the end!”
— — -
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