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2-02 Fire
Desert blooms, a rose unfolds,
Winds howl, ice and snow descend.
Greyed hair, weathered skin appears,
Jade eyes pierce, a veil is drawn.
Fragrance drifts, on chilling air,
Two hearts beat, a tender touch.
Head rests soft, on aged chest,
Land of fire, and ice entwined.

She, a soul of strength, through trials passed,
Ember and Jade Embrace begins anew.
Hurt and betrayed, yet love remains,
Aloof at times, when love is true.
A rose in bloom, a steadfast heart,
In lands of ice, she finds her way.
He, from this land, of fire's grace,
A captivating scent, where shadows sway.

Hands warm, cradling, shielding form,
Heartbeats merge, a tender sound.
Veil is lifted, love takes hold,
Two souls meet, on hallowed ground.
Ice and fire, a dance begins,
Weathered skin, and blooming rose.
Greyed hair whispers, stories old,
Jade eyes gleam, where passion flows.

She opens wide, her heart's embrace,
To this aged man, with gentle art.
His tender touch, her mind's soft haze,
Ember and Jade Embrace imparts.
Two hearts warmed, in love's sweet hold,
A refuge found, from chilling breeze.
In this embrace, a story told,
Where passion blooms, with gentle ease.
Project Title: Elements of the Heart
Volume 2: Fire (火) - Passion and Transformation
Poem #2-02
See collection for description.
4-01 Metal
Rocks below, a heart laid bare,
Tides recede, a shattered soul.
Wounds are fresh, a fortress built,
Hands reach out, a comfort sought.
Flames ignite, a journey starts,
Shadows fade, echoes remain.
Intruders creep, mistrust takes hold,
Questions sting, a mournful song.

I thought the pain, a distant shore,
But Shattered Reflections now appear.
Her wounds mirrored, my own deep scars,
Betrayal's echo, a haunting fear.
Feelings stirred, a flame's rebirth,
Unintentional, yet deeply true.
Doppelgängers rise, from depths below,
Lost and drowned, in memory's hue.

Helping hands, a mend sought out,
New beginnings, where shadows flee.
Twisted minds, sow doubt and strife,
Betrayal's sting, a lasting pain.
Real or false, the question burns,
Past pains linger, a haunting tune.
Wounds remain, like anything,
Echoes rise, beneath the moon.

Who is real, in this mirrored scene,
Shattered Reflections blur the sight.
The past returns, a haunting trace,
A mournful echo, in fading light.
The heart's long hall, where memories dwell,
A song of pain, that time won't quell.
Yet through the shards, a truth remains,
A strength reborn, from past refrains.
Project Title: Elements of the Heart
Volume 4: Metal (金) - Grief and Letting Go
Poem #4-01
See collection for description.
2-01 Fire
Golden orb, a day's dominion,
Shadows shorten, then lengthen again.
Silver disc, night's silent watcher,
Tides respond, a rhythmic sway.
Pinpricks of light, a cosmic tapestry,
Galaxies swirl, distant and vast.
The world turns, predictable cycles,
Elements dance, in ordered array.

Unseen, yet felt, a constant warmth,
Like a hearth's glow, deep within.
The moon's soft light, a guiding comfort,
In moments of doubt, a steady gleam.
Stars, a reminder of boundless love,
A silent promise, in the sleeping heart.
This enduring presence, a cherished truth,
A love that transcends, all earthly bounds.

Sun's corona, a fiery halo,
Lunar phases, waxing and waning.
Stellar clusters, cosmic nurseries,
Planetary orbits, in measured paths.
Seasons shift, a natural rhythm,
Life unfolds, in intricate patterns.
The universe breathes, a grand expanse,
Time's passage, a flowing stream.

My heart echoes, the sun's warm embrace,
A love ignited, a burning flame.
The moon reflects, my deepest longing,
A quiet devotion, in whispered sighs.
Stars ignite, a boundless admiration,
For a love that shines, eternally bright.
This Celestial Hearth, a constant beacon,
Guiding my soul, through darkest night.
Project Title: Elements of the Heart
Volume 2: Fire (火) - Passion and Transformation
Poem #2-01
See collection for description.
1-01 Wood
Sunlight, a pale wash across the room,
catches the curve of your sleeping shoulder.
A stillness hangs, a moment held in amber,
before the world's clamor breaks the quiet.

My heart, a quiet drumbeat in my chest,
a warmth that spreads, a gentle, rising tide.
This love, a gift you placed within my hands,
an old soul's wonder, found in morning's grace.

Rays of light, like golden threads, entwine
through strands of hair, a halo on your cheek.
The air is thick with the scent of peach and rose,
a fragrance woven from your very being.

I trace the line of your jaw, the soft swell of your lips,
a landscape etched in the memory of touch.
This waking moment, a fragile, precious thing,
the first sight, the first breath, the first, always you.
Project Title: Elements of the Heart
Volume 1: Wood (木) - Growth and Renewal
Poem #1-01
See collection for description.
****-Narrative | Yin

Twelve days have passed, and no word comes to me,
no painted stroke, no ink upon the page.
I fear the silence, yet I picture her,
a solitary figure, far away.
She seeks the earth, to ground her restless soul,
the water's flow, to cleanse her troubled mind.
The fire's heat, to forge a stronger will,
the wind's soft sigh, to whisper ancient truths,
Beyond the Element Mountains, she must roam.

She walks the paths where granite peaks arise,
where rivers wind through valleys, deep and green.
She feels the heat of embers, glowing bright,
the rustling leaves, a language she can hear.
I see her face, reflected in the stone,
a mirror to the strength she holds within.
She seeks the balance, lost within the storm,
the harmony that silence can impart,
a journey inward, where her spirit flies.

I wait for her, a shadow in the room,
where empty scrolls and brushes gather dust.
I trace her image, on the window pane,
a phantom artist, painting absent days.
I hear her footsteps, in the falling rain,
a distant echo, of her coming home.
I feel the longing, that the silence breeds,
the ache of absence, in the heart's long hall,
a story written, in the waiting time.

She will return, with wisdom in her eyes,
a quiet strength, that silence has refined.
She will bring stories, of the mountain's crest,
the river's journey, the fire's burning grace.
And I will listen, to her whispered tales,
of ancient elements, and inner peace.
For in her journey, love has found its way,
to bridge the distance, that the silence made,
where spirits meet, Beyond the Element Mountains.

--------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------------

Ci-Meditative | Yang

Twelve suns have risen, twelve pale moons have waned,
and silence stretches, a vast, unyielding sea.
No ink-stained paper, no painted breath arrives,
no whispered echo of your distant voice.
I picture you, beyond the city's hum,
a soul adrift, where ancient elements reside.
The earth holds steady, where your bare feet tread,
a grounding force where turmoil starts to cease,
a silent journey, Beyond the Element Mountains.

The water's flow, a cleansing, cool embrace,
washes away the doubts, the fears, the stains.
The fire's dance, a flicker in your eyes,
ignites the passion, where resolve takes hold.
The wind, a restless spirit, whispers truths,
through rustling leaves, a language understood.
The metal gleams, a mirror to your soul,
reflecting strength, a clarity reborn,
a quiet passage through a world unseen.

I trace your steps, a phantom on the path,
imagining the landscapes you explore.
The granite peaks, the river's silver thread,
the burning embers, the sigh of forest breeze.
I build a shrine of thoughts, a mental space,
where your reflection lingers, calm and deep.
My mind, a canvas where your image lives,
a portrait painted with imagined light,
a patient vigil, where hope begins to bloom.

The silence lingers, heavy, yet serene,
a space for growth, a pause where love endures.
I trust the journey, where your spirit flies,
to find the answers, hidden in the stones.
And when you return, with eyes that hold the dawn,
I will embrace the wisdom you have found.
For in the stillness, love's true strength is shown,
a bond unbroken, by the passing days,
where silence lives, Beyond the Element Mountains.
Authors Note:
This is an experiment in a new style.  
**** is a style from the Tang Dynasty - Common to Li Bai writings.
Ci is a style from the Song Dynasty - Common to Li Qingzhao writings.
This is my modernistic take on the styles and my understanding and template to follow.
I am also trying to associate with Tao - balance in the poem, so I provided both.
Naturally, I would have preferred to interweave the stanzas, side by side, left and right justified, but HP isn't quite doing what I want.... thus the experimentation and request for honest feedback.
Funny thing is Yin is feminine energy, and Yang is masculine in nature.  Just like in China, the union (wedding) is represented with the Dragon (male) and the Peacock (female).   And in my relationship that I often write, She is the dragon, born to the year of the Dragon.  So roles reverse a little, again bringing balance.  This poem is no different, as the Yin part is written from my perspective, and the Yang from her perspective.  Much like the poets famous for these styles.  **** was feminine but used by Li Bai, a man to gain notoriety through its use during the Tang Dynasty.  Ci was male but used by Li Qingzhao a prominent poetess of the Song Dynasty.

"****-Narrative" (Yin): Love and Melancholy (No Rhyme)
Focus on a narrative of [briefly describe the story or emotional journey].
Use concise imagery and express [specific emotion(s)].
Use the 9-8-9-8 stanza structure, and do not use rhyme.

"Ci-Meditative" (Yang): Nature, Perception, and Perspective (No Rhyme)
Focus on [theme of nature, perception, or perspective].
Use vivid imagery and an introspective tone.
Use the 9-8-9-8 stanza structure, and do not use rhyme.

Rhyming is optional, however, I find that life doesn't always rhyme, so I avoid it letting the energy and thoughts flow freely and more naturally.
I also used the 9898 sentence structure in the stanzas because 9's and 8's are of significance to the cultures of the East for luck, happiness, and prosperity.

Sorry if this turned into an educational post.

Enjoy, and I look forward to the feedback.
Ink bleeds softly on thin paper,
your words, like strokes of painted light,
arrive, a week delayed, a world away.
I trace the curve of your imagined hand,
the ghost of pigment, the scent of distant rain,
a landscape formed from sentences, and sighs.
My desk, a cluttered altar, holds your art,
a still life of our unspoken dreams,
within a Garden of Whispers, softly spun.

The brush you wield, a whispered secret,
creates worlds I can only touch in thought.
Your canvas blooms with colors I have missed,
a vibrant echo of your absent smile.
Each letter, a portrait of your soul,
revealed in glimpses, shadows, and soft hues.
We build a Garden of Whispers, line by line,
a sanctuary where our spirits meet,
a place where distance cannot truly steal.

The moon, a silent witness to our words,
hangs heavy in the night, a silver coin.
I write by candlelight, the shadows dance,
a phantom audience to my devotion.
My pen, a clumsy instrument of love,
attempts to capture what your art conveys.
I yearn for touch, for shared and simple breath,
within this Garden of Whispers, we reside,
a moment where the ink and paint collide.

The year revolves, a slow and aching dance,
of paper ships that sail across the miles.
I wait for spring, for your returning hand,
to paint the landscape of a living day.
My heart, a canvas stretched and waiting still,
for your arrival, for your vibrant touch.
The letters fade, the ink begins to pale,
yet in this Garden of Whispers, love remains,
a masterpiece, etched in the soul’s long hall.
I combined this into a "****-Narrative" style, with a 9-8-9-8 structure, and striving to use no rhymes....
The subject of this was the year-long correspondence with my GF.  Reflecting on what it is I love about her.  Though written as if we were still using pen and paper, I meant to express the power of words and art to bridge the gap that distance has created. It reflects on longing, love, and the intimacy shared through correspondence and creative expression.
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