Trees undressed
Do you know what the earth meditates upon in autumn? Pablo Neruda — The book of questions The question turns my mind to blazing colors of the dying leaf succumbing […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Being sand for you
Let me be your pebble — seashore-polished, rolling, resting softly in your frothy wave-embrace — you my tear-salt ocean, you my kelp-girl, crested lady let your seaweed loose and play […]
My maimed heart
When midnight moonlight spills its river in our lake where from your arrow, freshly picked from Cupid’s quiver maimed my heart and tainted marrow infected with your lust and burning. […]
The awe of wondering
It’s not from fear or might declaring knowledge — or what’s right. It’s not from snow-capped peaks, or rowdy waterfalls — but how we seek for questions in the hearts […]
Circle-evidence
Without a map or moonlit pebbles leading home again the aged librarian follows poetry and songs scribbled in the margin of a first-edition copy of a book not read, remembering […]
