Needlepoint Canvases - Jan Voich Designs

... cuantos caminos - hasta llegar - - a - un beso ...

THREE POEMS

POETRY
And it was at - that age ... when Poetry arrived
... in search of me.

I do not know - I do not know

where - it came from - - from - winter - or a river.

I do not know - how or when -
no - they were not - voices - they were not
words - nor silence -
yet - from a street - I - was summoned - - from the branches of night - abruptly
from the others - amongst
violent fires - or returning alone - - there I was - without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know - what to say - my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind - and
something started in my soul - - fever or - forgotten wings - and I made my own way - deciphering
that fire

and I wrote - the first faint line - faint - without

substance - pure
nonsense - pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing - and suddenly - - I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open - planets -
palpitating plantations - shadow
perforated - riddled
with arrows - fire and flowers - the
winding night - the universe.

And - I - infinitesimal being - drunk
with the great starry
void - likeness - image of
mystery - I felt
myself a pure part
of the abyss - I wheeled - with the stars - my heart ...

... broke free - on the open sky.

Andalucia II

Write - for instance - *The night is full of stars - and
the stars - - blue - shiver in the distance.*

On nights like this - I held her in my arms.
I kissed her - - so many times - under the infinite sky.

She loved me - sometimes - I loved her.
How could I not have loved - her large - still eyes ?

I can write - the saddest poem of all - tonight.
To think - I do not have her. To feel - that I have lost her.

To hear - the immense night - more immense - - without her.
And - the poem falls - to the soul - as dew - to grass.

What does it matter - that my love - could not - keep her.
The night is - full of stars - and she - is not - with me.

As if to bring her near - my eyes - search for her.
My heart searches for her - and - she - is not with me.

The same night - that whitens - the same trees.
We - we who - were - we - - are the same - no longer.

Someone else. She will belong to someone else. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice - her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her - true - yet - perhaps - - I love her.
Love is so short - and - - oblivion - - - so long.

Because on nights like this - I held her in my arms - my
soul is lost - without her.

Andalucia - Needlepoint Canvases - Copyright 2004 - Jan Voich - Select photo or links above to view other hand painted canvases in this collection.

Needlepoint Canvases - Andalucia - 16 x 11 inches.

Needlepoint Canvases - Poems and music - a lovely blend for your senses - we hope you enjoy this page