Anastasia Sara Kaufman

Anastasia Sara Kaufman

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Untitled (Thinking about Death)

There’s a garden in my mind
Somewhere down a gravel
Path through my soul
La anima amara
Flowers bloom with music notes
Exploding, opening, distendono
I see me running barefoot
Toes wet & weightless
Laughing or crying
Or both
A drum kicks in
Controlling the breeze of thoughts
That bring time to the garden.
Its where I write
Its where I live, its where I dream
Where I
Have been
Will never get to
Will never leave
Will hold on to forever
Sitting in an antique swing
High above some changing trees
And I remember that it is winter.
I remind myself that there is death in the winter
There will be spring
Rebirth, a resurrection?
But do I believe that when I stare at my reflection that I look through,
Non vedo.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

I am like a mosaic
Beautiful broken fragments
collected from here & there
put together to form one
sparkling mess of color, you
may see a clear image from far
but up close you gain
an appreciation for each
cracked piece of glory,