Out of the Maze

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? (Khalil Gibran, “The Prophet”)

Wild flowers bloom
then fade.
Words flow in silence.
Tears go by.

Will we look
at the gates of Heaven
the same way
you were gazing at the sky?

How can we be sure
that Time and Love
work together
to lead us safely

out of the Maze?

Will You Believe Me?

If I tell you I saw

blue suns shining
over the mountains
fragrant pines standing in awe
as clouds turn silver

pristine water reflecting
the sea-blue waves of Time
worlds behind the world
flowers within the flower

and through the veils of light
the beating Heart of Life
the beauty of Darkness
the stunning Secret of Death

will you believe me?

~

Jasione des Montagnes
Pyréenes, France © 2017– F.G.M.

Jamais trop tard / Never too late

Un matin de mai
j’ai vu sur un mur de Paris
écrit en lettres rouges
le mot AMOUR.

Cela m’a rendu triste,
triste
car d’Amour
le monde manque tant,

et j’ai soudain pensé
plein de regrets
à tous mes “j’aurais-dû”
à tous mes “j’aurais-pu”.

Alors un ange ou peut-être
cet enfant en chacun de nous
a murmuré
“il n’est jamais trop tard !”

Un matin de mai
j’ai vu sur un mur de Paris
écrit en lettres rouges
le mot AMOUR.

~

On a May morning
I saw the word LOVE
written in red 
on a wall in Paris.

That made me feel sad,
so sad
for the world craves
a Love so deep!

 And I regretfully thought
about all my 
“I-should-have” 
and “I-could-have”…

Then an angel
or maybe the child in each of us
whispered 
“It’s never too late…”

On a May morning
I saw the word LOVE
written in red 
on a wall in Paris.

~

illustration: image chef

At the Edge of the Pond

The birds have flown,
the tree has grown,
and nobody sits on the bench
but a sad and lonely child.

Did the gray heron
stop fishing in the pond?
Do water-lilies bloom
forever and beyond?

Time plays the piano
and brings me solace.
Miracles or Memories.
Stillness and Beauty.

Dreams
at the edge of Eternity.
Oh! You look so pretty
when you come and sit by me!