It is your birthday and I think of you

It is your birthday and the sun is shining

the eagles hover on hot airwaves

heads as white as sea foam

and the waves

the waves roll stick and stone beneath the pond still

look as I sit here and watch you

so far away

in Frankfurt or Copenhagen in full swing with the dreams

blue, blue crinoline skirt

little big dervish on tiptoe

you dance

a heartbeat above the cape of earth

it is, after all, just seven thirty in your winterland

It is your birthday and I hope for you

You have got someone who sings

and kiss your forehead and perhaps smile all through you

morningeye to soul

pond-still-lively, the song, you have to imagine, maybe

the wind is singing in the tree while the rain drums along

on your window pane I draw a heart in the star dew

frozen perhaps you

sense hot finger on cold glass. It is your birthday

and they party in heaven as here

in the Veranasi of the south

where death lives in all the new beginnings, baptized by ashes of deceased

camphor and flowers on banana leaves

in the surf, for two hands

the wind sings in the waves as in the tree by your window

It is your birthday and I think of you

of this here stainless love

and these here seventh years, the branch drums in step

Today it is your birthday

in the shade of the coconut grove I hum your praise.

*for B.