June 7, 2015 · 7:00 am
a gentle wind
lowers itself onto the arid leaf
thirsty for the attar of a new breath
awaiting in patience the first drop
underneath layers of the frozen white
whispers promises anew
unlocks the box after Pandora leaves
she has been tricked
no ill seeps through this time
the bolt’s ice will not be melting yet
in joyous dance unite hope and smiles
dreams and love recover again
Goethe calls out as if for me:
Muses, help me with art,
To suffer joy’s pain!
Ludwig Uhland’s painless joy
cuddles me with a kissing breeze:
Oh fresh scent, oh new sound!
Now, poor heart, fear not!
Now everything, everything must change.
The poem, “a gentle wind” was among my three contributions for the April 2015 issue of The Year of the Poet, a monthly book series published by Inner Child Press, Ltd.
October 26, 2014 · 7:00 am
[Photo: Courtesy of my daughter who gently placed my little big love on my lap without hurting me at all. After months of me having to avoid him, I was overjoyed to feel him this closely. But…if he weren’t asleep, I would not have had any chance to hold him on my lap like this,as he is quite an active little one…my thanks to his sleep fairies and to my daughter for thinking of this loving trick!]
As you all know, the late spring and the entire summer spanning to early fall this year had presented a multitude of ailments to me. Gratitude for my renewed chances for life fills me now. I had written the poem below for my grandson. For a long while, I assumed I wasn’t going to be able to see him ever again. Today, out of joy – and on account of the contrary (!), I am sharing those verses with you. Please be forewarned: though my little big love most of the time prefers to smile or laugh, he has learned to be quite generous with his tears since…
in his tiny seat with his precious frowning face
about to shed his newly-learned dropful of tears
but as soon as with his bottle she rushly nears
he pauses and awaits in awed anticipation her nestling embrace
where is the engine that runs those kissable fast filled-in arms and legs
what revs up the speed at which they move up down and sideways
those adorably small hands and feet on an invisible wing
one would think he is lifted up onto a sky-reaching swing
sadness in his sky-blue eyes begins as fast to disappear
his whole-body smile then glows in brightness to delight
joins the cutest giggle with a coo – to him ever so dear
mother and son thus embark as one on their blissful flight
© hülya n yılmaz – May 11, 2014