Pavel Rup Poems

I love to soar o'er fields of purest white
Where blooming words in beauty softly lie.
I fly with cranes beneath the morning light'.
And as I gaze, the world begins to fly!
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Madam History sways, it swings, it plays,
It climbs so high,
Then downward strays!
Nothing stands still—it all goes on.
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Outside the window, along the lanes,
the dawn with rose the birches glows.
Winter has painted the skies in a soft, blue velvet haze.
The distant cars' hum and the fleeting sketches of passers near,
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What is humility?   
The soul's enlightenment  
The prideful opinion
Of self—extinguish pride.
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The linden trees are bare,
The maples blackened so;
The winds are softly weeping,
And the rains fiercely grow.
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Silently one can love,
Forlornly shrouded in thoughts,
Drunk on imagined lies,
Awaiting the heart's reply.
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In life, perhaps, I fear no more a thing,
But pangs of conscience frighten my weary soul.
In night's deep hush, I pray, my voice takes wing -
My heart aches sharp, and tears begin to roll.
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The chill of dawn, so gentle, so profound
Brushes your skin, the newborn day is found
I cherish this—the freshness and the calm,
What more could one desire than Nature's balm
...