Two poems...

Long ago
by Ino

It has been long, long
since I last opened the window,
Last noticed the color of the sky,
the leaden clouds hanging low..

Long since I picked up this pen,
piercing through a sheet of paper,
Piercing into the days gone
before entering this rainy winter..

My hands patting with blindness,
these familiar leaves, smooth and dry,
Unstained by the leaking rain,
dripping ink, my tears or your sigh..

So I survive, so I live..

No Title
by Ino

I prayed in front of the Buddha dressed in green
for a pair of scissors, with which I can finally cut
through the layers of the rainy curtain. Or at least
for me lift a corner, being kind and omniscient.

I know behind hidden, along the roads winding to a yearned
secret palace, tombs shaded by trees with branches woven.
Once only I traced that road lit by fireflies, in an autumn night,
with wings that grow only in dreams, when window is left open.

Glorious mansion, on pillow I still hear the wind chimes
swinging under your flying roofs, through the mist and distance.
I can not tell the difference between an omen and a mere
temptation, between my mind roaming and the sound of wind.

Thanks for the contribution, Ino.