Behind the Blue Door

Behind the Blue Door
there’s a garden and more,
flowers falling from an apple tree
and all what the eyes cannot see.

Before the Blue Door
one must stand still and silent,
there’s no door handle
but a Message to your heart:

Love! Love is the password!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

La Porte bleue © 2020– F.G.M.

Silk Paper Dreams

The Night tries to let us know.
How long will we remain deaf?

The Moon does not shine.
She simply faces the Sun.
Things do not happen.
They come and go.
Time does not flow.
It just pretends to pass.
Worlds do not exist.
They all are
silk paper dreams,
and so is Life
and so is Death.

But Love is Love, it is
the only Truth.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Child in You

give Him a broken umbrella
He’d like to get wet in the rain

give Him seven-league boots
He dreams to walk among the stars

give Him the closed book of destiny
He can guess the story

give Him a bit of your time
and listen to your heartbeat

He loves to hear
the sound of a Life

alive

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Selfless Trees / Etoiles silencieuses

I came into the world
not to tell the truth
but little things similar

still water reflections
white lies
lazy butterflies
slow days of May
faithful hawthorn
blue dreams underway
and the sweet voice of flowers
in the evening light

and all those silent stars
far above
the selfless trees.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Ce n’est pas pour dire la vérité
que je suis venu au monde
mais ce qui s’en rapproche

reflets sur l’eau
mensonges pieux
papillons paresseux
aubépine fidèle
lentes journées de mai
rêves bleus tout juste commencés
et la douce voix des fleurs
dans la lumière du soir

et par delà les cimes
des arbres magnanimes
toutes ces étoiles silencieuses.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

 

~

En Vérité (reflets) © 2018 – F.G.M.

A Butterfly’s Dream

“Verily, verily, I am blue!”
a yellow flower said
“…and whoever believes in me will be given
a glimpse of the true nature of things.”

*

This was certainly
a butterfly’s dream,
but things are never as they seem
and dreams give us rainbow wings.

*

O wise wild Flowers,
erudite Mentors,
Keepers of the hidden Hour:
why do we not trust you?

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Fleur jaune © 2018 – F.G.M.

Heart Wisdom

In a city of shadows and light
I met three men claiming to be wise.

The great Traveler said
travel and stop traveling.

The clever Teacher said
teach and stop teaching.

The seasoned Farmer said
harvest and stop harvesting.

Then I walked past
a deaf and dumb Beggar

and read what he had written
on the grimy sidewalk

love and never stop loving.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Nudité / Nakedness

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.