47
" As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words,
I need not;
The angel’s secret, to be whispered in my ears
As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own,
I need not;
Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold
As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine of your face,
I need not;
Open skies, nor snowfall, nor the rain
As long as I can gaze into the emeralds of your eyes,
I need not;
New colors, new wings or paradise
As long as I can feel the tender tickle of your breath,
I need not;
The drifting wind, nor its call, nor caress
As long as I can feel your soft lips upon mine,
I need not;
Melted sugar, nor the most expensive of wines
As long as I can feel your warm body close to me
I need not;
A blanket, nor a bonfire's luxury
As long as I can see you every morning I wake,
I need not;
A mirror, nor a cloud, nor shade
As long as I can keep you in every petal of memories
I need not:
Dreams, nor desires, nor fantasies
And as long as I can hold you in every moment that I breathe,
I need not;
Oxygen, nor blood, nor heartbeats. "
― Sanober Khan
50
" It was only after my head started reeling and my body started weaving and I tumbled into bed that I'd hear that soothing voice singing...The reverbations of that voice wandered sweetly, softly, working like a massage on the area of my heart that was the most tightly clenched, helping those knots to loosen. It was like the rush of waves, and like the laughter of people I'd met in all kinds of places, people I'd become friendly with and then separated from, and like the kind words all those people had said to me, and like the mewing of a cat I had lost, and like the mixture of noises that rang in the background in a place that was dear to me, a place far away, a place that no longer existed, and like the rushing of trees that whisked past my ears as I breathed in a scent of fresh greenery on a trip someplace... the voice was like a combination of all this. "
― Banana Yoshimoto , Asleep
51
" Big Brown Moose
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a rascally moose,
I'm a moose with a tough, shaggy hide;
and I kick and I prance
in a long-legged dance
with my moose-mama close by my side.
I shrug off the cold
and I sneeze at the wind
and I swivel my ears in the snow;
and I tramp and I tromp
over forest and swamp,
'cause there's nowhere a moose cannot go.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a ravenous moose
as I hunt for the willow and yew;
with a snort and a crunch,
I rip off each bunch,
and I chew and I chew and I chew.
When together we slump
in a comfortable clump --
my mountainous mama and I --
I give her a nuzzle
of velvety muzzle.
Our frosty breath drifts to the sky.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a slumberous moose,
I'm a moose with a warm, snuggly hide;
and I bask in the moon
as the coyotes croon,
with my moose-mama close by my side. "
― Joyce Sidman , Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
60
" I write this in the moonlight, straining my ears to hear beyond the cold mechanical clock to the warm biological noises of the night, but my being is attuned only to one thing, the relentless rhythm of time.
If I could only smash the clock and stop time from advancing! Crush the infernal machine! Shatter its bland face and rip those cursed hands from their torturous axis of circumscription! I can almost feel the sturdy metal body crumpling beneath my hands, the glass fracturing, the case cracking open, my fingers digging into the guts, spilling springs and delicate gearing. But now, there is now use, now way of stopping time. "
― Ruth Ozeki , A Tale for the Time Being