You should never hasten

To unfurl your umbrella

Under the first drops of rain,

And the summer rays of heat.

With open arms feel it-

Heaven’s small offerings,

Breaking the old season.


A soft night where the candle lashes at the ceiling

breaking and making, a hundred veils.

With the quiet flame mirroring every rising step

and every fall, and fleeing razor breeze

a melting darkness and shrinking quiet.