The Blue Haze of Heat

The air shimmers,

mirroring distant happenings

on the canvas of a summer day —

or is it a glimpse of things to come?

.

The air stands still,

melting harshly the frozen —

if anything persists

of the ice of feelings?

.

The air turns opaque,

like spun sugar forming

here in life’s crowded marketplace —

what is it I’m not meant to see?

.

The air’s heated breath,

a soft breeze sways gently through the land,

I wave my hand at the biting fly —

what torment must I escape?

.

The air’s scents tease my senses,

jasmine, perhaps a rose?

But the scent of you is missing —

where are you now?

.

The air’s quiet sound of nothing,

listen between the hum of insects —

the everlasting cathedral’s echo,

let me hear your breath.

.

The air by the sea,

full of seagull cries and the taste of salt —

here I want to live my life

and taste the spice of your skin.

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Author’s Note

This poem comes from a place where the senses meet both the warmth of life and the chill of absence. In my words, I circle around what is no longer present — and yet fills everything. The warm air, the gentle breeze, the scents, the sounds, the silence… All become reflections of my longing for the beloved, for the closeness I can no longer reach.

I experience the poem as a quiet conversation with life itself. A silent question: What do I do when nothing feels the same anymore? How do I go on living amid the warmth, amid the stream of memories and impressions, when absence speaks just as loudly as presence once did?

This is not a poem seeking answers — but an attempt to stay present within the question, within the haze, within the silence by the sea.

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