One unexpected delight


41

-Wanting Qu bridges cultures, namely Vancouver and China, and I have to admit, I’m a bit smitten of this song (that inspired this poem).


One unexpected delight

You exist in my dreams
Like an intimate breath of hope
A radiant inexhaustible humour

That becomes a voice
And when I see you in the world
A voice whispers in my mind
That we are all connected
If you had the desire

To do good or beautiful things
I know you will, even as you live
In my heart, like a shade of light

Not like a stranger, but a feeling
That needs no explanation
An unexpected delight
That has a queer power of destiny

In the grace of your eyes
I see the youth of everyone’s dreams
Like an intimate sign of

How the world is big and small
The fate of all the worlds
That becomes a voice
I see you in all life

A voice whispers in my heart
That we are all connected
If you evolve to find a way

Out of selfishness, remember
The others who stood by you
Were not always the expected ones
Where the moon can set below
The Pleiades and familiar stars
You exist in my dreams
Without any hesitation
So I leave you there until
I am able to perceive you
In the blessed days ahead of me.

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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanting_Qu

Expression of mystical love


The great day is when you are set free
From your personality, ego, attachments
The soul sets free upon pure service
Never to profit the same again

The body no longer craves biology
And the brain no longer craves
The familiar suffering of existence
It requires rather the essence of holiness

The value of sacredness and sacrifice
The poetry of inner spirit and divinity
It’s a state of ecstasy the common
Mind cannot entertain, know, or touch

On that day, filled by the vision of
Something beyond humanity
The tribe, the wars, the history
I found my body became purer tears

No trace remained of why I loved myself
Or what I sought for myself alone
I was no longer an individual alone
Against an indifferent world

But I was a privileged duty to serving God
God without a seal of belief or book of faith
God the universe without possessions
God the love without the need for a lover.

Ballad Before the New Year


9
Ballad Before the New Year

The children sing
In the quiet night
Of the Christmas cheer
In the little square
By the fountain lights
“What joy does your divine
Heart celebrate?”

They chant in whispers sweet
For the lost people
And the clear streams
And the families that know
How to give to each other
The winter wonder
Still holds their hands

As we listen to their
Little voices for a while
“Drink the tranquil water
Hear the antique song
Where your soul meets
With the Universe….”

Your Hips Beneath my Pregnant Hands


34

You gave me, songs for late hours
I hunger after your rippling
Skin, flesh come alive
Your silver back of cold divinity

Your thighs of shattered sensations
Your hips of warlock-tumult
Wine and kisses, led me to this –
Your small breasts and unexpected

Nipples, your sweet moans
For hard days, your last resort
Of petting me, stroking me
Let us wash our limbs with moisture

And make a cringing siesta
Of our tired bones, weary lungs
I’ll give you French names
In bed, unclothed and free at last

In our naked ease, I’ll give you massages
And detach you from reality like a feather
With circling tongues around your
Wet spot, split heavens like dark rain

Feast on your native smells, vivid heart
I’ll tip your golden buttocks an open leaver
And find great engines of burning there
Wanting your wetness over me without end

And season myself in your whirlpool of lust
You gave me, songs for late hours
I’ll give you blazing gardens of desire
And you will squat on me like a passionate princess.

A Last World of Spring


13

It’s too late to cancel them now
Isn’t it? The birds of spring, sing
Like a mindful entry into the passage
Into summer, May will be coming soon

Reflected in the water of the buds
Fields of division among the twigs
It’s too late to wait up for it now

Isn’t it? The broad gestures of metamorphosis
There are no taboos in Spring
It walks into us from the inside

Sobering with sensuality, green effort
Hazards of the course of threshing floors
Of desire and clarity of impulse

It’s too late to cancel it now
Isn’t it? No more fence-sitting for us
Ambushed by the teeth of flowers

Like a perverse playroom before summer light
I can dwell here a while, to taste
The nearest stars in your liquid eyes.