Pictures of Time

Catching the white seconds
With the fingertips of my soul,
Holding fragments of time,
Wishing them bright and whole,
Carolling the immaculate snow,
In Christmas memories,
On frozen silent waves
And bursting happy melodies,
Of childhood whispered
Through last silver snowflakes,
And apples baking
Under the sacred fireplace,
Dancing flames of time,
Shimmering inward,
Warming the heart of memories
Rejoiced and turned skyward.



© Cristina Miller 2010 - 2011

The World As An Ocean

When I was a child,
The world was an ocean
With playful horizons,
Softly falling
From infinite skies,

Time stretched,
Like the wings of a bird flying
In the lazy afternoon sun,

Each day breathed wonder,
Each form became laughter,
Each moment danced so alive,
Each season spun faster,
Each year left the child behind...

The ocean lost waves,
And its sunny horizons,
Storms darkened the beautiful skies,
Today we lost shipmates, once more...
Tomorrow whole generations
Are falling behind us,
Like silent waves returning to shore.

Today I'm a child,
And the world is my ocean,
Shrinking, but softly falling
From the infinite skies...




Copyright © 2011 Cristina Miller

Conjugation

I am not
Who you are
To me
He sometimes isn't
While she always is
We'll remember we are
When they forget to be.


Copyright © 2011 Cristina Miller

Waterfall

When I saw you,
The world was crushing down
On you,
Like waves pulled from the sea,
Deep skies all around you,
Like restless dreams
In endless nights

Of gleams.

I walked
With steps of falling leaves,
And covered my heart
With a garland of rain.
You smiled
With waving soul,

And absent words,
Sitting under a rushing waterfall

Not knowing
That the river was me.

 © Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller

 

Symbiosis

I paint words
With open eyes,
And dreams unfold,
Freezing the time
Into feelings of gold.

I see music,
Pearly teardrops,
Stirring up inside
Restless words,
And pictures alive.

I sing sculptures,
Molding the space
Into translucent shapes,
With starry eyes,
And silhouetting arms.

I hold brushes of colors,
Blossomed into shapes,
I hold constellations of words,
Melted,
Danced into notes.


© Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller.

Circus

We're walking the tightrope
At the circus tonight,
High above the tamed animals,
And children laughing
At the marvelous sight,

Clowns wearing their bright, red smiles
Painted on sad faces,
A hundred jugglers with fire in their eyes,
Riding the invisible horses.

No trembling stars in sight,
No open skies, and dancing night,
No breathing trees in focus,
Just the silent echo
Of absent acrobats,
And magicians fading with a distant hocus pocus.

All is bright, and false, and loud
In a world where only the show matters,
Tension rises, as hands applaud,
One by one, the children's dreams fall asleep,
While reality scatters.

We're walking the rope of stars,
In the sky tonight,
Far beyond the worldly circus,
The light engulfs our eyes,
Eternity stretches between two hearts.


© Copyright 2011 Cristina Miller

October

Autumn is falling
From stardust,
Like twinkling tears
On leaves of gold,
The words are hiding
Under small butterfly wings,
And then trail away,
Beneath the solar winds..

The dream has gone
At dawn,
Undreamed.
The air was filled with its fragrance
Of bittersweet memories,
Flying away,
As morning was raising
Autumn perfumes,
Nestled inside shy flowers,
On teardrops of dew,
Under the crystal sky
Of my lonely October.

© Copyright 2001 - 2011 Cristina Miller