POET OF THE MONTH – Patricia Furstenberg – SOUTH AFRICA/ROMANIA

I TRAVELLED

I traveled the width of the earth

Searching for kindness’ rebirth.

I walked the earth’s length,

Seeking peace and strength.

Over mountains

No encounters,

Under seas

Nothing to see.

Kindness was lost

In war tossed;

Strength was bent,

By lie’s intent.

I’ll travel the earth’s width

Sowing seeds of peace.

I’ll walk the length of the earth

Till peace will sprout underfoot.

CAT MEOWS

The wind howls and hits the windows.

Sleet patters against the roof,

The unusual music in my day to day life.

The crackle of the wood stove fills the room.

Cat meows lazily and stretches along the windowsill,

Her back to the desolate landscape, devoid of any green, a grey winter.

A lonesome snowflake hangs outside the glass.

Cat watches it. Her tail flicks.

The stove’s heat circles the room.

Many people will come and go, finding this place beautiful once under snow.

For me, this landscape and its climate are nothing new.

They’re part of my life.

I feel at home.

RAIN

I touched the rain, it was all jewels

The rain that pattered from the sky

Down rainbows sliding, drop by drop,

I touched the rain and laughed, and laughed.

I kissed the rain, I tasted you

It landed softly on my lips,

I tasted rain, the summer’s heat,

And knew I’ll never taste again.

I held the rain in praying hands,

Cupped tears dropping from the sky,

As red as blood, and dry as leaves,

I drank the rain to keep thy open grave well dry.

I felt the rain, it iced my blood,

Frozen in snowflakes, heart of stone.

Gone childhood rainbows, gone summer love,

Without you here, I feel this blasted rain no more.

First published online by Spillwords Press.

SNOWMAN

He dropped by on a mid-afternoon,

a bitter time, with daylight frail,

pine-needle percolated,

black coffee steaming an old heart

on window scrawled, last winter’s tale.

He dropped by trees all gnarled and twisted,

lank skeletons, bare bones, leaf-bare,

crude among bare joints exposed,

mourning, heartbeat baring

in rough, bare bark.

Student of joy

he dropped by in mood

removing layer upon layer,

white coats hung now on twigs,

surprised bare branches,

forest in white whispers dressed.

The daylight dies, yet brightness stays

in wonder from much curious minds

now pouring out, footprints on snow,

the mark that binds him to bare trees,

mark of good news, of winter-shared.

First published online by Setu Bilingual Literary Journal.

➡️ Thờ cúng ông tổ nghề cờ bạc giúp dân chơi có được may mắn, dễ dàng ăn tiền đối thủ trong mọi cuộc chơi.

A LAST NOTE

Release thy rhythm to the skies

spirits raised on notes that fly,

eye-open dreams, rising in tides

happiness shared, arms linked by side.

Whoever sings, bird, man, amazed,

it’s soul that matters, that’s acclaimed,

that unison of heart and notes,

that love implants in lithe pray-oaths.

For ‘tis the soul that sings to soul

above notes surging in key sole,

a harmony that ties from dawn

of humankind, of strings indrawn.

Strings that pull hearts and raise arms high,

strings that whisper, strings to pluck nigh,

music is that tongue we share

in frisky romp, or soulful prayer.

Then go, jump high, and raise your arms

smile, hum, chant, but save one charm

for your last sigh, that last note shared

with God, when down your head will lay.

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