death · Faith · Love · Power

The mountains of Heaven

How can I describe that which
I have never seen?
How can I speak of Your Greatness?
Stars alone are the echo
of Your beautiful thoughts,
but their light does not go forth enough,
past our eyes’ blindness.

How can I describe
the mountains of Heaven?
How can I speak of Your Essence?
Birds alone bring testimony
that You can fly without feathers,
but their chirping does not enter
our ears, deaf to Your music.

How can I describe that which
cannot be unless You let it happen?
How can I speak of Your Presence?
You are everywhere I go,
in every water I swam,
and I am never alone by Your side,
not even when I finally close my eyes.

Love · Sacred


Love is not a four letter word,
Love is a four word letter:

Light Over Veiled Efforts.

Love is not a word by nature,
Love is perpetual action.

Listen Ocean Volcanoes Explode.

Love is not a word by itself,
Love is the end of hell.

Look Over Vast Emptiness.

Love is the feeling
of never being alone anymore.

Life Origin Vibrant Essence.

Bridge · Concrete · Love · Power


Unaware most of the time
that our words are acid rain
(forcing grass to grow under)
we look at each other
from the blind-spot.

Would it be hard to let go
of everything we assume,
and just breathe
like a whale gasping for air
after a long hunt?

Even magpies bury their dead,
but we are so paralyzed
by the feeling of being awesome
in the silence of our heart,
that we prefer darkness.

You, Who descended into hell,
You, Who are Eternal Life,
anchor our feet firmly to the ground,
and instill Your fire in our palms,
so that we may rise from ashes.

Gale · Loss · Love


Ceasefire, says the Master.
I will not let go
of my little dream,
speaks the hunter in the wind.

If you stop and follow me,
I will set you free,
breathes the Master quietly.
I will not let go of me,
roars the hunter in the sea.

Oh, how sweet this life can be,
all the trees are filled with Thee,
weeps the mother, tenderly.
Hunters hunt the vanishing,
mothers bear the bitter seed,
sings the robin in the spring.

Romanian version

Bridge · Life · Love · Power


I believe we could say uncounted things
about the way lindens bloom in the morning,
but there is too much snow in our souls,
and the petal spread tires in death.

If you wish, I will turn your face towards the moon,
for she is the lady of violins,
and of mountains, and of our longing
drowned by horns, and by rail screeching.

You have nothing to hide, still you are silent in waiting,
you find yourself nowhere in this world,
except in a plot of land burnt by the sun,
except in an endless wheat field, caressed by wind.

Come home, the spring will be here soon,
the snowdrops will pop up in gardens,
swallows will roost under eaves one by one,
and all mysteries will grow wax wings.

Romanian version

Kiss · Light · Love · Power

The last border

Show me the place
where the sweet doves rest,
please show me the place
where your heart dies.

I want to walk with you
along the shores of despair,
we will step on dry leaves,
holding hands, holding hands.

We breathe inside a spell;
you carry the light,
and I am always hungry
for the warmth of your palm.

We crossed the final border,
we are home at last –
I feel your every thought,
your lips – they taste like grass.

Romanian version