Fallen Angel

I am a fallen angel.
In Heaven
I had a good job.
I was a gardener.

But I killed snails
and God fired me.
“They eat flowers!”
I said, but God replied

“That’s no excuse!”

Since that time
I’ve crawled around
the wide world
with my broken shell

and gardens after the rain
are the only place
where I can find
peace.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Beauty of Autumn

How nice to stand
in the morning light
as the oak leaves turn gold
and life comes to an end.

How nice to be
followed by a bird
when silence meets
Silence.

How nice to see
through the Veil space and time
surprisingly intertwined
with one another.

The Eye and the World.
The Beauty of Autumn.
Consciousness. Endlessness.
Emptiness.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: the Messenger of Autumn
(Paul Klee, 1922)

September Farewell / Adieu Septembre

It’s not springtime
yet Spring is in the air.

Birds seem not to care
and roses confuse
dreams with reality.

But shadows lengthen
and the robin’s heart
beats faster and faster.

September farewell.
There so little time left.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Un air de printemps
flotte sur le jardin.

L’oiseau semble indifférent
et la rose prend
ses rêves pour la réalité.

Mais les ombres s’allongent
et le cœur du rouge gorge
bat la chamade.

Adieu Septembre.
Il reste si peu de temps.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Ombre© 2018– F.G.M.