2020/05/30

Eden Soriano Trinidad Director of Ambassadors of IFCH International Forum for Creativity and Humanity & Director of Arabic Network in the Philippines : Poems of AGRON SHELE ATUNIS POETRY.COM President





Poems of 

AGRON SHELE
    ATUNIS POETRY.COM
              President

A woman

Do not expect her to walk 
in the cold streets with her scarf over one shoulder
Or tap the heels on the silent memories 
nor mirroring her image in the shops window
because her effulgence 
is stronger then the sun
that warms the ice transforming it in to a candle, touching the marrow of the earth
breaking the myths of winter 
that die at the irises and yet, 
are resurrected  
to embrace the light.


An image that appears at the shine of stars
and with her the wind extends the hair
to a forest where the deers are sleeping
the tracks of their hooves are printed on the snow
like a magic hidden in lightning
slaves of fate and troubled dance
towards that image 
that god himself created
holiness
in the kingdom of every living breath. 

Do not expect her to be weakened
because pain walks with her blood
and the blood with the feeling of eternity
like a deity
of the force that lifts gods to their feet, 
the angels, everyday,
understanding the silence 
of the turn of centuries
because the life is more than one attempt
that walks through the gates of the rainbow
and opens the doors of life
to the smile of a woman!




Twilight

At the twilight I saw the angel descending
like only he knows to
his white wings blinded the night
and a bright vail covered the sky,
the glowing shape, like a hanging spirit
the fire, kidnapped from the bosom
that was burning on the eyes of lightning 
and was poured as a thunderclap 
in the turbulent sea


Or maybe it was the magic of life
that descends from the God’s throne
to bestow only one flash
that was lost to the sunset
to the ship’s rigs surrounded by seagulls
permeating invisible circles 
flickering on a cover of mystery
as a mirage remains in my daydream.

At the twilight I saw the only light
brightening the frame of a siren 
that radiates her hair to the waterfall,
immersing them to the ends of depth 
like a reflection of glory itself
to her arm, covered in emerald
where the specter of colors brakes
attracted to a red charm.

At twilight I saw the innocent sight
of her, who gave birth to life
building a monument to humanity
the era that lights the world
to spark another desire
of tomorrows eternity
kneeling in front of the altar 
to get the sole blessing.