Humanly we leave words on paper,
while we try to determine the language
of Him who is the core of the Bible story.
...
Probius was whipped by guards until bloody,
then chained and locked in the dungeon
to convince him, to offer to gods
and when they saw him shaking with sheer pain
...
Next to an apple tree at a crossroad
a woman plays a song of love
which is swept away by the wind,
as she plays a cello at her thigh
...
who is dear to me
and whose thoughts
age tried to wipe out
and he looked at me
...
Children carry cellular phones and pistols,
chop others dead with swords,
are bladed by barbarians,
kill people of a different colour
...
Meters under the surface lies rocks that are rough, black and shining
where everything is caught in a twilight that trickles through from above,
where sea-grasses and bamboo gambols in the swell
when seekers with diving masks and oxygen swim still deeper,
...
There is a place where everything comes together,
where life comes to a kind of crossing point
where joy, pleasure and deep anguish
even every crisis does get an answer,
...
however events do touch you
you do still come through the throng
to places that your heart long to go
but still after loss
...
When all rhetoric is gone,
when all of my words
loose their meaning,
even when my poems are gone
...
The cracking branches as it rushed in
had a shocking kind of thunder to them
and where it entered the swollen river
I heard the rushing water splashing
...