Hunting Day
Today is hunting day.
I set out to the mountain’s edge
where the dense forest frowns
under the sun’s broad smile.
When the bullet zips, I vanish.
The lioness leaps like the spark
from a struck stone,
sinking her fangs in my throat,
coloring my shirt with fresh blood
that splashes to the ground like yolk.
My brain gushes under the wet vines.
A Heart Shaped Stone
Your long legs:
a picture of crystalline days
when I descended from heights
to wash my burnt feet
in the bright water
of childhood’s spring.
Your footsteps bring morning
with the new year’s silvery shoes
in spring alleyways.
Your hands reach with the Caretaker
toward the cradle of my life
to swing me in joy through the world.
Your eyes, stars in a nest,
bring good news of the future;
reflecting Fate’s smile.
Shine on me.
Rise in me.
Turn me into a mirror,
into running water,
till your crystalline hand
comes through your sleeve,
searching my chest for a piece
of heart-shaped stone.
Birth of a Star
Strange gaze in the mirror,
behind my dark hair of puberty
thoughts of the morning sun
arose within.
Today in my old age
the sun still shines on my head,
but true thoughts rising within
shadow this false dawn.
Night flows into consciousness,
a long dangerous way
to the indifferent mirror:
from bright adolescent dawn
to the evening of senility.
Strange gaze in the mirror,
tomorrow my image becomes
a baby reborn
into a foreboding dawn.
This milk-and-sugar-haired old child
emerges from a mother as bitter as the night,
preparing for a more unpleasant life to come
of dark solitude.
Congratulations on the unexpected meeting
of this baby
with both cradle and grave.
Wonderful night,
congratulations on the birth of this star!
Evening
Wind’s sharp sword
severed water’s protruding belly.
From the incision, the sun’s blood-stained fish
was thrown on the beach
like a warm heart.
The night heard the moan
of the old sea
and settled
beside her bed.