Poem: Reply to the Larch

Silence and Mist surround us
as I reach for you.

Rough marriage with The Winter Wind
has shaped your unique beauty
silent and serene,

though in a summer breeze
your flouncy branches bounced with joy.

I cannot touch, for in-between
and hidden in deep snow are rocks and fallen trees.
There is no path.

The Way,
The Way to you

is not along a path,
unless it be by tracks of creatures
or a bird that flies into your branches.

Remember spring.
We met with
bursting green rosettes.

Joy in life renewed,
my princess of ‘The Emerald Lake’,
now your needles lie on the snow
and bleed
a rusty juice.

The Winter Wind freezes my blood.
Silence and Mist surround us.

Poem: A Larch in the Tatra (please comment)

Her rust rosettes were veiled in pure, soft snow.
Weeping she said,
‘Write for me!’

And because I loved her
and she was alone
and with no voice
I wrote,

‘I wait in the dark green forest of spruce and pine
till spring to give you:
bursting rosettes of young love,
joy in new life,
then summer sun and sparkling waterfall,
your princess of The Emerald Lake.’

‘Now, too soon the lake is frozen
and white with snow.
Icicles grow by the waterfall
And my needles lie on the snow.’