Amid the lies of leaves about the endless summer,
the autumn wind had not yet sang my song.
Petunia’s splashes spell a timeless grammar
with their innocence of look that does belong
to the eternity and fills me to the brim
with joy of vivid colours. Their hymn
is wedging in my soul’s hungry pores.
I can’t believe after my darkest hours:
am I alive? Is it I, who soars
in spirit, stunned by brightness of flowers?
Is it my heart, which was in sackcloth dressed,
which didn’t know grace and was oppressed,
but now wears silk, brocade and hope ?
From crystal skies a royal hand did lay
a necklace made of pearls beyond the scope
of my imagination that today
assures me that, when the winds will pull
all leaves from trees, I will be caught with them
into the heights. And now my day is full
of promises that, treasured as a gem,
I’ll merge with heavens, and my future’s there
where no human by their deeds would fit,
but for the moment I can walk without care
inhaling flagrances that flowers emit.
7.01.2012