A Ceremony Of Eternal Dancing Poem by Soran M. H

From the pattern of your shirts
to the deep pattern of my inner self-
I leave the colours..
for a new colour.

Flies flying to sweetness
fishes to moss-
their paths lead them to
pentagons of mind and psyche
and I return to the ruined walls of imagination
that smell the structure of a new colour.

Behind those quite villas, before their doors,
is an exhibition of begging and a pound-land sandwich world,
the rooms are very dark
their windows made of iron-
until happiness silently stays there
I don't want as a stranger to go to that prosperous world

How are these fresh colours yellowing?
the leaves won't be trees' guests next spring.
the direction of clouds
shows sings of elevation-
even with a muddy eye they may glance
at the clearness of sky!

According to this ceremony
butterflies eat each other-
they don't satiate themselves
their spirits separate again
falling on the descending flowers

The laser of wonderful spirits
pulls me into their orbit..

An anxiety of hopeless faces,
the handcuff of restless words,
expatriation of far exiles-
every thing in the school without desks
teaches us an old lessons

The perfume of tea-rose rises
from day to the pocket of night
the shining of lights goes on
from spring to the chimneys of winter.

Have I gone mad?
I wish to collect the innocent smile
that rises from faces

each one makes ready
for a new yesterday
but they laugh at me
when I write in an old tomorrow
for a new yesterday

No chink of money or shimmer of mirages
spits at my eyes' heaven.
all of us walk the one path
but it leads to different worlds!

Taking rest or no,
getting tired-
a moment of silence collects
the noise of many sounds
then throws them out..
but me
falling, lonely
in the spaces of the mind-
life-whispers wake, reaffirm me.

1998