Talking To Angels

Franklin Booth

reading poetry about

life

and death

and knowing I had

come close to exceptional humans

... so like angels

fierce

and sharp eyed –

Yet

soft and sweet at the

second glance,

living and

loving

and Shining so I could see ...

even in the dusk.

Roethke & Fokanov

A LIGHT BREATHER

The spirit moves,
Yet stays:
Stirs as the blossom stirs,
Still wet from its bud-sheath,
Slowly unfolding,
Turning in the light with its tendrils;
Plays as a minnow plays,
Tethered to a limp weed, swinging,
Tail around, nosing in and out of the current,
Its shadows loose, a watery finger;
Moves, like a snail,
Still inward,
Taking and embracing its surroundings,
Never wishing itself away,
Unafraid of what it is, a music in a hood,
A small thing,
Singing.  

          by  Theodore Roethke

Vladimir Fokanov

The Secret Heart of Sound



breathing in
breathing out