Friday, April 24, 2015

If my poems had wings

By X. Z. Shao

If my poems had wings
of your music,
yours and mine would intertwine
and echo around the mountains
a story that were ours,
a longing that would flow
a ribbon of a river or clouds.

Scatter me into the air
I don’t want a body
and a tongue of words.
I want your invisible notes
carrying my dusts
to the deepest chamber
of your heart.

Oh, no, dusts are too heavy
I want to be light reaching
wherever your songs fly.
I want to be with you
to fill the morning woods
with the sorrows and ecstasies
from a wanderer’s strings.


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