The transcending feeling of Anca Mihaela Bruma’s poetry

I Feel You

I feel you in everything…
in the glorious nights inside your incandescent eyes
where butterflies knit my dreams and compass my heartbeats.

I feel you in everything…
while resting your sigh in the corner of a letter
and the blue grass kneels at the border between dream and spring.

I feel you in everything…
in the rhythmical sunsets of your absences and prologues,
within your unspoken words turned into sleepless stones.

I feel you in everything…
when I conjugate your breath with my acoustic verses,
in the silence of your footsteps, on the tip of my eyes.

I feel you in everything…
when I swallow the octave of your presence,
a fluorescent beauty rustling in theatrical infuses.

I feel you in everything…
in all scarlet concentric moments of the past,
in the euphoric tempo of samsaric and philharmonic sensations.

I feel you in everything…
in all your silent similarities and rippled reflections,
when your thoughts are juxtaposed with the pattern of my breathing.

I feel you in everything…
when your restlessness rotates inside my lyrical veins
and I wonder behind my face highlighting your insights.

I feel you in everything…
during all echoless autumns and multiplied mornings,
when you come to resurrect me from my own lasting winter.

I feel you in everything…
when I write this letter now and seal it with a kiss!
Mon chéri! It has been growing inside my heart!…

 

My Wings Have Not Widen For A Trivial Love…

My wings have not widen for a trivial Love,
You!… just have filled your emptiness…
My light reveals your soul’s wrinkles,
singing this song, I do not know anymore…

You took my anthem!…
An hour of absolution I try to find,
your existence to be shaken from my being,
your caress to be erased from my skin
and forget the reasons of your own oblivion.

The moment got stoned inside the adversity,
too early became too late!…
Not even my insane flight is aerial enough,
and I got tired of being afraid
of the shifting shadow of the Present.
That you were here,
but you chose not to become!…

Your departures still whistle in my tympanum,
no more icons inside this Love sanctuary…
You are aching inside my open wound!
Remembrances about you became like footnotes
and the punctuation replaced all my words!

The light’s rustle chant your presence no more!…
I am still here… humming my melody… telling you
my wings have not widen for a trivial Love!…

For a complete biography of the poet see http://marmoset16.wix.com/ancabruma

Artworks by Dorina Costras

at kibatek festival