ANCA MIHAELA BRUMA

Anca mihaela bruma

I WROTE A POEM ON A THORN

I wrote a poem on a thorn,

let my words fall

on the other side

of who I used to be,

who I became…

My journey is on your skin

and my hand’s hollow

carries the ashes of

of a once warm embrace.

A cold emptiness where once your head lay.

I built mountains of days

where adagios mused in green

and where silver shone through

the rush of my rhapsody

The virginity of my snow,

the senescence of your smile.

I brought you to Life

on my pages,

arched rainbows into your very being…

I wander endlessly in your maze,

symphonic tears

soaking my skin.

greetings and farewells but falling leaves I shed

at the onslaught of the bitter notes of a winter song…

Yet I have this recurring scent of belief

and a rhythm of my rhymes,

shimmering shades of life,

bleached summers,

the psalms of flowers.

You came to tears when my mournful adagios were composed,

my Reality dissolved into streams,

and the trigonometry of my Heart became sanctified.

No more this unbroken Time

with declarations expired!

One glance once cast a shadow over my eyes,

to blind my everyness,

sing my fading symphonies.

My Time,

Your Space

rhyme

in Silence…

Anca Mihaela Bruma