Poem IX (from my Purple Collection)

You might,

Come in the midst of the night,
Like a surprise,
Like the sun that is hidden
And the wind that gently disturbs the water lilies.



Is it right?

To think, to process, to question,
The forcefulness of the might,
The shadow that lies behind the pond and its calmness,
The flowers that are dying with the sun,
The water that flows in your veins,
And the mark that has sent all the blood to your heart.



Is it art?

To write, to sing, to draw,
The sadness of your eyes,
The subtle rays of light that dance provocatively on your face,
The purple smile that you threw to the Mediterranean goddess,

Your infinite aura that is
Like the stars,
Your universe,
And my everything…

D.D