dragon
flies into sunset,
golden wings and a thousand eyes;
from which one do you see me?
and when everything fits right into place
like constellations about your eyes,
there are dragonflies flittering
at the very edges of the sun
in circular movements,
forever.
it's like the morning glory blooming in twilight;
sweetest thing, oh! your time has not yet come.
but just as those that flutter past your cheek,
the dragonflies, they do but wake to the flower's charm.
and it's that lost and found feeling
when you take me on your wings,
and the sunset's lingering on just a while more,
waiting for us to arrive.
(c) 2004 mai kozai
you amaze me.
silence is also music. {4:17 PM}
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
one
the first one
or the last,
either one,
anyone.
or that last hour,
the twenty-fifth hour,
the hour that doesn't exist.
the one that left
or stayed,
either one,
no one.
or that last minute,
the sixty-first minute,
the minute that doesn't exist.
after two circles and 180 degrees,
yesterday ticks and tomorrow tocks.
to the twenty-fifth hour, the sixty-first minute,
i couldn't love the one by only one.
(c) 2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {11:23 PM}
the poet
mai sharona.
december 5, 1984.
davis, california.
a sucker for flowers.
