FROSINA TASEVSKA

 

 

Deep Thoughts

 

I am a dried springhead

among a meadow flower.

You are a playful stream

amidst desolated wastelands.

Could you please be a bright drop that flows?

Flow down my enclosed stones

and destroy all marginal impurities.

You are like a dark room

among an illuminated fireplace.

I am a luminous lantern

amidst a dark silence.

Let me be, at least a beam

to penetrate through the dark windows

and ruin the faceless apparitions!

I'm that kind of end without an ending

between two distances.

You are a bridge between two eternities.

Please be the clutch and connect those

two distances between two eternities!

 

I am a springhead without water.

You are water without a springhead.

You are that room without the light.

I am that light without the room.

I am a long distance without an ending.

You are a long ending in the distance.

The one that belongs to the other.

The one that cannot exist without the other.

So, I wonder, why are we still alone?

 

My Horseman

 

In my thoughts, you never stop riding,

although without armor and а sword without a blade.

My eternal horseman!

The darkness is your turret of a staging battlefield

with all the distorted silhouettes of the time.

You whittled away

every sandstorm and thick snowdrift

always to protect me and preserve me,

so I could stay clean and unharmed.

And if I remember, and I remember well,

it has always been like this.

 

You were my horseman with a lion's heart,

I was your barefoot girl who looked just like you.

You're my constant blacksmith of a life's trickery,

I was your reflection on overgrowing.

 

Now, we are separated by two eternities,

two different worlds without a bridge to connect.

But you never stop riding in my thoughts

my eternal horseman, my beloved dad!

 

Our Moments

 

You remember the moments that

follow the scent and events from the past.

I recall those moments from the smiles

and the speech of our glances,

from the spoken words and the silence after it.

I recall those moments from our goodbyes

without any touches but still full of promises.

You remember the songs rich in epithets

and precisely copied enlightenments.

You remember them. I recall them.

And nothing else remains except

those moments and our remembering.

 

© Frosina Tasevska, Macedonia

 

FROSINA TASEVSKA

 

FROSINA TASEVSKA, hailing from Shtip, Republic of Macedonia, is a versatile poet and writer proficient in both English and Macedonian languages. With two solo poetry collections to her credit, Frosina's literary prowess extends across national and international platforms, including magazines, journals, and anthologies. Recognized with numerous awards, she seamlessly weaves her words into compelling narratives. Alongside her literary pursuits, Frosina serves as an educator, bringing her passion for language and creativity to the classroom.