The flame is burning still. It doesn't come...
A simple flow of thoughts and inspiration -
A fruit of pure unpredicted love,
Arising on the roots of admiration.

Alas, another day in pages lost, -
I wander in the Garden of Reflections
And listen to the characters and rocks,
Foreseeing their hardships and affections.

Sometimes, I see you walking in the room
And taking your arm-chair by the fire.
You mirror how in doubts I'm lured,
I pour you cup of tea with lime and honey.

Your flattery has never known borders,
But I appreciate you doing this,
For I could put my sunrises in order,
And you could have a liberating sip.

Another evening, steady by the hearth,
And phrases softly land on piece of paper,
Untroubled by the efforts and the charms,
That you will listen to a moment later.

I thank your presence and a gentle glow
Of every word exchanged across the oceans.
A mirror by design, - when verbs come slow,
We share their fragrant, moving potion.

December 2025