Out of Chaos comes the Universe,
and the Sky covers the Earth.
As Darkness joins with Light,
so does the Day with the Night,
making Alpha of Omega and
Omega of Alpha, Cycles in Epicycles.
Category: Poetry
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marine haiku
The high stars
in the black sky
On a wide ocean
Light a scene
Of play on stage
In three acts ere
the curtains are
Drawn for a new.
-
Truth of Nostalgia
For all those years gone away,
The home I have left behind anon
where the sun lingers in the west
draped in the soft fluttering chiffon
of the twilight of the mystery unknown
beckons me with memories of mirth
that are lost beyond the innocent mist
but I can’t go home again, not now, not ever.
-
melody of hope
The old pictures I have drawn
With colors and shapes of
The images I see in a vision
Thru the eyes of the Bluebird
on the balcony of a bastion
of solitude in the soft sweet
twilight with the pale hues of
the sun lingering in the west
beckon me with the promises
of the Stars yet to arrive from
the Milky Way across the Universe
with the dazzling radiance of Light
that the Bluebird, the troubadour
has once seen in a flight of fancy
to deliver tweets of Hope in melody.
-
My Bluebird
I walked in all wither in the dark alley
A long, narrow, serpentine labyrinth
Of fake hubris, false hopes in dismay
as Reason began to revolt from within.
Then I heard the melody from yonder
High over the mean concrete fences
Like a dryad’s melody from a flower
twinkling twilights on her wings.
There I arose from the dark slowly
And walked into the sound of light
In the felicity of the unknown suddenly
Beckoning me with the promise of delight.
As I came to the corner of the maze
Beyond the alley of another corner
There it was in the distant misty haze.
I saw a bluebird waiting for me pretty, ever.
P.S.: The bluebird, as a symbol of hope and happiness because of its fanciful prettiness and rare presence in nature, has been a popular element of folklore. Albeit the French version by Mme D’Aulnoy is famous, my choice is a Russian version of the bluebird, as called upon by Anton Denikin, a military leader of the Volunteer Army in the Russian Civil War during the ill-fated Ice March. And this is my version of recreating the bluebird as a paragon of beautiful hope, the last saving grace for the forsaken left in Pandora’s Box, twinkling like the stars in the Milky Way embroidered on the nightly sky.
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bohemian, ballad, zeitgeist
On the day she left the gallery
Of the faces ancient and agelast
She went to the shop of curiosity
And bought a new perfume fragrant
Of Rose, Acacia, Lilac, and Bergamot,
From which a Sylph floated up to her
Thru the dusty air of a city street
Wrapping her in the perfume of love
Undressing her in the nature of love.
Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh 
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