Eva Lewarne


green man, woman of Spring
wielding sword in air
thru empty space of
rainbow heart
unlocking horns of Bacchus
unconscious of the tiger
tearing at his side
forever stopping to smell 
fresh new shoots
on budding branches
of ancient, wise oaks

bulging eyes piercing
thru heavy stale air
tossing his foolıs cap
splitting his sides with
resounding laughter
he takes up the dare
to dance like a child
in celebration of life 
folly be hanged!
biding his time
waiting to die

grey man, woman of Mind
abstracting reality sublime
your hundredth tom of verse
gathering dust, laden with words
mechanically marching single file
across blank, bleak pages of
sterile residuals from
processed green trees
now dead door stops
buried beneath library
stacks of similar atrocities

in bacchanalian ecstasy
consumed by fire, water simultaneously
the disc of earth
uncovered buried treasure of
freedom, folly, fun
purity of a childıs fantasy
the fool spins magic
in tall grasses of morning sun
or rich shadows of waning moon
like the rainbow after rain
he tames the tiger of our brain

Eva Lewarne

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