Ayni Poet Poems

On a winter noontide
A lost poet adulates a discreet muse,
Memories of a foggy romance
Closed in a bottle of perfume
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Butterflies leave their artful vitrail coat
Wherever they filmy touched,
The ivory beach inhales the last warmth
And percolates into the onyx late sunset,
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Lips burning again to speak,
Words fervently tossing,
Fingers attempting to sculpt
Life's wisdom into daily clay.
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A world of division and one of bliss
Concurrently flower to be experienced,
By an awareness that contains
All names and forms.
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It was morning!
Words were arching their lids,
Absorbing soft light into their airy pores,
Set to make their appearance
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Laughter and thunder strike spontaneously,
Like thought and action springing from an unpredictable void,
Each thing is a phenomenal experience,
A face painted on faceless sand.
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That which taught birds to sing, to fly
And humanity to paint, to feel,

That which is in the newly grown grass, lilies and the Sun
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A ceremony of lights is set up, at sunset
The chandeliers of our souls flaming
In a temple of candles and roses,
Opening again that book without characters
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I play for you delightful melodies of harp,
On the edge of a cliff,
As the stars are leaking from their beds
From the sky, onto the long palm leafs
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Leave those circles of thoughts
Making you dizzy,
Enter a city with no traffic,
No alleys or animated bodies,
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