Anna VarneyWong

Were there flowers before longing created them?
or is it the sigh of the bees
that awakens this field before my eyes…
...

There was something precious
about the way you left your window open
that day it rained and the wind was howling
Your gauzy curtain, a dancing muse, flying
...

(poem for Burma)

Come, friend, sit beside me
on the river bank
...

(poem for Tibet)

A land in the sky was plundered
and a simple monk
...

to my love, Gien


Come beloved
...

Does a single tear
make a difference?

I know it does -
...

Empty
through what eyes
what vision
do I project
...