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Moments from Christala Rosina’s poetry …
Sometimes I save it moonbeams that it nibbles from my hand; sometimes a string of stars to place around its throat (on days when childhood’s just too far to go to find the daisy-chains I foolishly left back there) … From The Unicorn and through the crystal windows of the sky the peeping, polished stars adorn the night … From Sonnet to the Night the shifts in distance nothing more than rhythms in the breath of love … From Two Pennies The round, soft black glistens at the edge of juice and waxen reds swell the tip of summer’s fallen rose. From I Met the Year … Hope hangs frozen and the voice of nature’s wakening heart is lost behind some silent door … From Contrasts … Your songs composed of ghosts - why take one more? Because a poet’s soul lives on in yours? One voice to ever roll, and sigh of dreams for future ages … lost? From To the Sea And here and there, a gold- and black-flecked cry slipped translucently into the quiet. From In Exsilium … So this is where it ends. The crimson fades; the satin petal shrivels into dust, its fragrance gone or just a memory … of hope, forever unfulfilled, echoed in the chambers of a life still seeking … or sometimes whispered on a breeze, turning empty days like leaves of trees and books, autumn-yellowed, silently surrendering to winter’s final frost. And all that’s left are thorns. From Thorns Thoughts are merely shadows of a tree which, in some other sphere, already lives … From Silhouettes What bliss the softness of this lovers’ tryst. Were you that sky and I, the morning’s kiss. From Prince of the Rose You who sit near the fires of eternal spring, come warm this frost-numbed mind. Spare a flame of that pure light to melt the grip of this audacious darkness … From But Where Do I Go From Here? For your light will illumine your way and the rhythm of your steps will awaken the sleeping song in your heart whose forgotten melody yearns to be heard … From The Absent Hearts |
