It risesin spirals of grasstwice a day,usuallyat the same hours. The hoofed bellsfrom the mountainsshatter the night’s edge,sending the milk flowinto circular songs. When you look atthe rows of labeled boxes,remember the starswrapped in prayers,the dreamswrapped in moonlight,the cows,and the tide.
Autumn is drippingfrom the old treewhile I shakethe thick branches. Every dayI slidealong the trunkuntil my backpackis heavy with apples. When I eat them,the ape inside mesmilessatisfied. Somedaywe’re going to touchthe stars. Its sparkling eyespierce the future,planning new tripson paths of bark,higher and higher.
The sky is paleat sunset.The stone moonhaunts, mute,above the hills. I’m seeking,without hesitation,among white sands and shells,cold tracks,old tracks of cyclopes. Silent thoughtsbury themselvesin my hair,bare,strippedof dreams.
She was floatingin the twilight,the sakura branchesspreadingover her dress,filling the airwith pink. After she left,only the deafening silencestayed,like a bell,behind the long kiss.
PerhapsI’m leaning too much into the wind,as if it were a carpetmeant to carry me over meadows. Perhaps you’re right,and it’s only my imaginationthat flickered that day at Ryōan-ji**,so long ago,when I thought a spirit from the gardenjoined me on the journeyto the other […]
It camesurrounded by night.My mother was asleep,smiling sereneinside a lacquered box.And it was quiet,so quiet thatI wantedto screamforever. The house was alreadyfull of people.We were stepping in circles,boiling planets around a silent star,candles and prayersblending in a solemn symphony. The butterfly stoppedon the northern […]
Words –printed,or filling a screen. Theyare onlybellsswayinghesitantlyin long callsthat shakethe clouds. Betterlift your gazeaway from this textand let your wingsspread highuntil they touch the sky. (c) Marian C. Ghilea, 2021-2022artwork by Marian C. Ghilea
Two Bells Time never drains.Always restless,it pours into entropy,filling eonswith whispers. The first bell tolls,and everythingbegins to take shape. The second bell tolls,and the Universe is already too old,an ancient child gazing aheadtowards the incoming end,cloudy ripplesof dreamsfilling whisperswith eons. Două clopote Timpul nu […]
first rain of autumn –I feel like a butterfly,lost inside my dreams (from the book “Tides of Amber“, 2019) © Marian C. Ghilea, 2019artwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022
Dear citizen,we dwellon opposite shoreswashed bymismatched horizons. What you wantfrom the futureis going to burn downmy world. Yet,I’m a citizen,like you.I dream of lionsand sometimesspend long hourscounting stars. Maybeyou could comebefore nightfall.You can stand by meon this neutral ground. We shall waittogetherfor the starswhile […]
Footsteps echoing,turning around,meltingunder stars. History,memories,heartbeats marking the secondsflowing into the night. Above, the same skyhidden by street lights,is guarding, unperturbed,the city washed bythe deep, invisibleriver of time. poem & photo: Marian C. Ghilea
Prologue I cannot prevent myself from wondering about the new generations that shall sprout into this world millennia from now. What shall they think of us? Shall they see our accomplishments as simple and primitive? Shall they portray us as uneducated barbarians? Shall our […]
rain clouds descending –singing louder near the pond,a few old crickets (from the book “Tides of Amber”, 2019) © Marian C. Ghilea, 2019artwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022
Nightfall.Wind and snow.I’m freezingon empty streets. Wounded,my thoughts scatter,turning corners,shards of ice and glass,memoriesfadinginto nothingness. Moonlight.I’m breathinga city full of ghosts,crumbling songsalready vanished,already long gone. A final deep breath.Soon,I shall sleep,I shall turn intoa ghost full of cities. (c) Marian © Marian C. Ghilea, […]