Incursions in green.. Corina Junghiatu

Through the arcane of the forest,
the sky reflects its blue sadness;
it smells of mint leaf,
gooseberries look like lighted candles,
and the leaf is a harp touched by the wind.

Far away, in a rusty elm,
a nightingale sings a trill of longing.

Poppy flowers, red lightning,
burning in my blood and in every thread
a violin seems to be hiding;
stems of fern smack in the buds
and a synod of dewdrops
sanctify the shoots stretched out in the sun.

From the frail spring, I clap in my hands
a handful of crystal diamonds
and sip a drop of grace from the living water.

I cruising on dream paths,
through the labyrinth of eternal trees
fused into petals of light and leaves
like a pure rustle of silk.

@Corina Junghiatu