Forest memories
Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream Khalil Gibran The forest always talks to me, some days in whispered sweetness: how our first kiss tasted, how your […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Just before a-quiver
Night’s a silent river, candle-clocks are hands unlocking cabinets. to all anticipated secrets; time’s a canopy a-quiver. teardrop leaves a-falling and below a staircase still in- definite: night’s an island; […]
Fortune and future
Oh fortune, you’re the moon faced silver crescent broken by these thousand voices. In waves of darkness hear the soldiers trampling descending doom of crippled choices. Oh fortune you’re an […]
Mukunaima’s habitat
Bluegreen capped sandstone ship. An ark for charcoal frogs sails the sea of clouds; its ancient voice untouched. Precambrian soil and golden rivers diamond-fields for Roraima’s hair, an angel’s fall […]
Compassion is closed at night.
Compassion is warmth of torn book pages slowly fed to hungry flames, by a beggar’s hands. Compassion is sound of a lonely coin at the bottom of a tin cup. […]
