Twig on a tree through my window
knows sign language, I’m sure.
Branch fingers waving
to his lover across the road.

He bobs and bends in the breeze.
It’s a mystery to me,
why this waxy green tree,
with love in his leaves,
doesn’t leave his roots
and **** soil
from the same straw as his lover
across the road.

One day she’ll grow old,
wilt, then timber.
Will he remember
his failure to uproot,
to shoot a vine across a power line,
just to intertwine
for one moment
in time?

"I'm happy you found someone,"
she wispers - and she means it.
I nod. I love my ***. But still,
my stomach burns with regret.

I can’t ask her to come back -
what I did forbids...
But God, a touch would make me crack,
just one more brush of h'r fingertips.

Her lips - so soft, so slim, so red -
I picture them on mine.
Then others join, and just like that,
the moment slips in time.

I’m not hers. She won’t be mine again.
Maybe that's how it goes.
Maybe we’re better off like this.
Maybe we're better apart with partners,
than as partners growing apart.

How on earth I end up with you
a question I bury in silence,
where answers decay.
How did I spend thirty-five minutes
trading my peace
for your poisoned lullaby?

How many times I should have left,
but stayed
each time a bruise
on the soul I pretend is whole.
Each moment,
a thread unraveling my name.

Deep purple sleep
where I float, numb,
ends nightmare.
Not with rest,
but with forgetting.

Thank God
for the wicked wake
the jolt, the break,
the moment truth
slices through the dream.
At last,
I breathe
alone.
Alive.

Life is but a moment, only time will tell
We live, we love, we pass on through
Memories are our only hope that we stay awhile
Deeds done well and things left undone, the struggle day to day
No one wants to be forgotten, no one wants to be left alone
We are here together for the time that we have
It’s what we do, what we say, how we live
Its love and family and what we make do
Our time is not long, the sun sets quickly
It is ours to stand in the light, all is gone within the dark
Fear not for love awaits, worry not for we are all with you

I did not board the train this time
its whistle soft as a wish I once made
before learning the cost of arrival

There were other hands to hold,
small rooms to fill with quiet work,
a garden of dreams still waiting to bloom
in the soil I help tend each day

The map stretched wide with longing,
but I folded it neatly beside the bills,
between the unopened letters
and the list of things love asks us to carry

Not all journeys begin when the door opens.
Some begin when we choose to stay—
when we say: not yet,
with a voice that still believes in someday

Let the wind have its turn
Let the stars wait a little longer
What is meant for me
will find me walking—
with full hands,
and an open heart

Umbră a Nopții, te arată,
Ca un vis ce-i rupt din Rai,
Ce-n lumină ești scăldată,
Mă chemai cu dulce grai.

Mă-mbăt de-a ta ființă vie,
De râsul tău cu gust amar,
Ești dorul ce nu vrea să fie,
Și visul stins ce-aprinde jar.

Pășeai încet, cu glezna fină,
Cu trupul tău sculptat în foc,
Privirea ta, o vină plină
Ce arde gândul, pas cu loc.

Și-n urma ta, tăcerea plânge,
Sub pași de vis, sub stinsul dor,
Se frânge clipa, gându-nvinge,
Rămân doar umbre care mor.

Rămâi, icoană neuitată,
Din nopți cu lună și parfum,
O flacără nemângâiată,
Ce arde-n mine negru scrum.

Someday the glass will be half-empty
And you’d get happy about that,
Cause yesterday was not so grateful,
The future, well, has not yet passed.

To see a glass already is a victory  
When you were struggling to have a sip.
A wandering eye, obstructing vision lately,
Somehow is focused, fighting to see clear.  

There are no words that could describe it,
There is no person who could really tell.
The glass could be half full and empty,
At least it’s real to begin with for today.