44. From the Ruins

The progeny of artisans
Is carefully reviewed
Before the goods are shipped before
The future's eager eyes.
Such ancient architecture bears
The toils of their craft;
The remnants were preserved with care
And visit, vividly.
Though packaged in the finest silks
The ravages of time
Prove coldly ever-damaging -
The fragments tantalize;
We die, the secret on our lips -
The guess is yours to take.
Forever coy, forever mute,
The sleeping artist smiles.

43. Rasputin

Eyes of the strange and the solemnest
stared at me; stirred in me mystery:
wonderfully, tenderly, pensively;

Searching, imploring you silently,
mounting obsession enraptures me:
steadfastly, easily, purposely;

Cold and unseeing, discarding me,
glanced at my longing and loneliness
fleetingly, vacantly, terribly.

42. O magnum mysterium

Spin fragrantly
in sweet oblivion:
the dancers blush
amidst the swirling bees -

In clearest day,
the lilting petals judge,
unseeing leaves
incapable to say;

Naive, demure,
assent to every whim
so pliantly,
the next the merrier:

Such faces mute
in unrequited bliss,
their secret art
an enigmatic tune -

My feeble wiles
to such a riddle fail:
Their silence is
a stronger stuff than smiles.