NIGHT NAUTIC

     

I

night nautic
to a virgin soil:

dream-moistened,
neither need-
less
nor necessary,

enslaved to
no one,
going to
where the heads
of the sunflowers
are tending



II

the sound
of my steps
through a snowy night

silence, white and wise:
I am
neither the same
nor someone else



III

blinded by night

shadows
tending to the darkness,
getting out of the mirror

at the corridor's end,
sneaking to a moonfield

there, a rose in bloom,
red and without a scent, holding
dry thorns of memories



IV

at night,

burning snow
falls
into my bedroom



my ashen
face;


my breath
goes
along the blue walls of the morning

to the mountains
of
ever-

green



V

in a dream
my bunch of keys
fell into the snow;
red shadows
growing there now

I go a-

way

 

VI

drunken dream
glasses, refilled with night
one over
the eight

I walk through the morning haze
on pearls of dew,
wept by my mother,
as I leave
the reality
of walls

sun,
the turning light
burns cool



VII

a train
of breath sounds
through my nightmare;
lineaments
running through
the tunnel of history
into the central station
eternity

no one gets off,
on




VIII

stream of stars
into eternity
through this night
of heated offence

fireflies floating
across the retina,
passing the wild thyme,
further and further
into the forest
of will and
lust



IX

deep night,
the veil of sleep
sinks
by the chirp of crickets

a dream
descends,
wrapt in chirps,
to the mind's top,

on the narrow path
of reality

early in the morning
a bird's song wakes me up,

calls me to the land
with no name



X

cold, clear night,
daffodils
full of starlight,
moments, glittering
travel-signs,
fleetingly free:

big dipper
stands by already



XI

barks, roughly rubbed
by the fall wind,
wood skin shimmering
with rain rests,

layers of history
in the stock face of
a winter nightman,

who presses against
nothing anymore



XII

in a dream
I came
across a wide field of sunflowers
into your house
there we closed
our wounds
and there we opened
our wonders




XIII

lilac scent,
at night,
the traces of feeling
towards you



XIV

still alive,
still time to be
witness:

blue leaves

on that tree