She was the first who showed me the moon
and the first snow on the spruces,
and the first rain.
Back then, I was as little as a tiny seashell,
and mother's black skirt rustling sounded like the Black Sea.
A night.
The oil in the lamp is burning out.
A mosquito laments around my ear.
Maybe it is you, mother, in the sky,
is it you, this trickle of stars?
Or the white sail on the lake?
Or a wave against the sloping shore?
Perhaps your hands have sprinkled
my manuscript with stardust?"
The clouds, hollows, acorns and knots
have lighted up with great glare ---
as if the whole world was a silver spruce,
a silver bittern singing songs.
The leafs begin to rustle,
the birds start singing,
My mother used to buy such candles,
They are dozing. A nice intention is dwelling in them.
Just arrange them and light them,
and see what goes out of them:
a precious, rounded face gleam in the candles.
Mother raises a finger. The wind will die away.
Kiss mother's hands and hair
then sprinkle the snow on the alley ways,
so it twinkles and crunches.
Then all the twinkling lights..."
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More
Sta.sh
thank you kindly!
thank you kindly
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