I was a shadow child,
prodigal son guided by
the careful hands of Forgiveness,

lost soul made of star dust,
younger brother of words like
orphan and light.

I learned little by little
both from short lives
and long silences.

I finally became
a man of no importance:
I was everyone

and everyone was me.
The starry sky had reminded me
who I really am.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Star of the Hero
(Nicholas Roerich 1936)

 

Sans bien savoir pourquoi
au bord du canal
j’ai eu l’envie de m’asseoir.
Il n’était pas midi.

Un vent léger et l’eau jouaient
au jeu des songes évanouis,
quand une mouette aussi jolie qu’un ange
tout près de moi s’est approchée.

Mais l’oiseau s’est envolé,
la brise a gagné la partie,
laissant mon âme seule
et nue.

Une passante un peu pressée
s’est retournée
et je me demande encore
ce qu’elle a vu.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Without knowing why,
I felt like sitting
on the banks of the canal.
It was almost noon.

A light wind and the water were playing
the vanishing dreams game,
when a seagull as beautiful as an angel
came up to me.

But the bird flew away,
the breeze won the game
and left my soul alone
and naked.

A woman in a bit of a hurry
looked back at me
and I still wonder
what she saw.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Au bord de l’eau © 2017 – F.G.M.

Time is not flowing
like a river to the sea.
The river is a dream
and I am

a leaf in the stream.

You are not moving
through space.
Spaces move through you
for you are a bird

creating skies.

Really, we are
neither men nor women
neither bodies nor souls
but only the Light in the Word

Moonlight

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Sand Pipers and Moon (Ohara Koson,  1877-1945)

What time is it?
It is huge!

Does God exist?
The many worlds sing together.

Who are we?
One millionth of a second before Midnight.

Is the universe finite or infinite?
Angels dance in circles.

What happens after death?
Prodigal birds enter the Rainbow.

© Frédéric Georges Martin