Gedichte (Poetry)
Die Gedichte wurden in den Jahren 2008 bis 2012 in englischer Sprache geschrieben und in dem Buch "You are the Mirror" zusammengefasst.
In Every Grain of Sand
In every grain of sand and every sun
Submerged in Revelation's unseen sea
I see my unseen lover, never one
To be outdone in all he does for me.
His spirit hovers over my abyss
And is an all-surrounding firmament
Like air to breathe, an all-surrounding kiss,
Whose tongues of fire light his unfurled tent.
At night my lover comes to me to ease
My pain and give me rest from labor's day,
When morning comes, he is a breeze
Surrounding me with song and lover's play.
And though to him I’m but a grain of sand,
He'll move a universe to win my hand.
My Hand in Yours
My hands in yours were like a wounded bird
That couldn't keep his own in flight and fell
From darkest skies and every crow it heard
Was brazen knell of death and deepest hell.
Your hands were like a bridal nest that held
My shaking wings of loneliness and shame,
Your eyes, a light that burned for me and quelled
My fears and grief with all-consuming flame.
With steady eye and wings I took to flight
Across a sky that burns as your eyes do,
To fields of purest gold and clearest light
And felt your hands support me as I flew.
Where knells of death once sang a dirge for me,
Now wedding bells our wedded bliss decree.
The poems I wrote in the years 2008 to 2012 in English and summarized in the book "You are the Mirror".
My Tiny Brother
My tiny brother lies in disarray,
His fragile arms and legs can still be seen
Amidst the slaughter of what yesterday
Was future's vessel, blameless and pristine.
My brother's tiny hand still holds the chord
That once held him attached to motherhood
Till whitest doctor, servant of his lord,
Conducted services as best he could.
The blackest kind of mass has now been said
And tabernacle, thus defiled, is tomb
Where litanies of death now being read,
Despair of hope for life in mother's womb.
At night and all alone my sister weeps
And wonders mournfully where baby sleeps.
They Say a Kiss
They say a kiss is just a kiss, yet I
Still feel two lips returning my desire
And memories I carry with me cry
In vain for arm's embrace and passion's fire.
They say this life is just a moment lost
In mindless ages, or a random quirk
Of chance selection void of purpose, tossed
Like dice to gamble, not a lover's work.
I say a kiss, like life, is lover's choice,
His gift to give as he sees fit to all
Who live from every word his loving voice
Made known to them who answered to his call.
Someday his kiss will reach my lips and I
Will pass to lover's arms who heard my cry.
Bücher von Michael Fuchs
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