Newport fuels my longing this gray May morning
So far from summer breezes, where you, with your hair in the wind
Turned to our rainbow in the sky,
Our symbolic covenant that weekend, sealed.
Was ever a time more blessed or foreboding?
Strangers no more we set sail on uncharted oceans
Pushed off from moorings to break free to love as we willed
As we did, from that time forward.
Was ever a time so fixed in time and space
That now, this day, I see it as clearly
Feel you as dearly as that special time?
Newport became our journey taken together
Then ending, with you, so far again, on another shore
In the land of Schumann and lieder, and yes, geliebten Rilke!
Do you feel me longing for your heart to be awakened again
Now that you lie with blue forget-me nots
With cemetery angels guarding over you forever?
Celebrate for Children!
How it all began…
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John McCrae, 1915
Katonah, NY May 19, 2012
Let this well of loneliness disappear
Not drown me in its wet cold grip
This spring day morning
Sunrise bring me hope
Of new beginnings
Let me sing a nightbird melody
Perhaps, a solitary soulful song
That lingers far from my early morning plea
Moonrise, on the new horizon
Stars above, whisper lovingly to me
Gute, Nacht!
geliebte, Renate, the Joy of Dusseldorf this May morning.
