sembra come una donna per me...

I let the sun walk with me a while. Its pale hand skims the grass. The cool keeps what it wants, and I do not ask it back.

The stream travels in a thin thought, stone to stone, quiet and persistent. Stones keep the day’s old heat, moss keeps what the rain confided.

In the pines the air moves low, a hush that learns my breathing. There is space beside me on the path, room in the air for a name I do not say.

Clouds gather like a patient herd. Thunder writes its name far off. I smile as if the lesson took, while something under the ribs replies.

Nettles lean where the bank breaks. Pitch from a split limb sweetens the shade. A heron stands without ripple, patient as a question no one answers.

Footprints soften in the damp dust. I practice walking without echo, letting the water decide my pace, one careful step, then another.

Rain arrives in small sentences. I let it write what I cannot. The mouth of the stream darkens and carries it all without complaint.

Dusk braids itself through the trees. Crickets stitch the edges of the field. Summer holds its silence like a breath, the river brings a small lamplight back.

I stand at the bend and watch it pass. It leaves a little glow along the stones. I keep that quiet with me, and call it enough to go on.

• diimaan (09/08/2025)

I left before the clouds had formed, before the sky grew heavy-eyed, thinking time would rinse the ache, but memory never stays dry.

The streets we traced are just as wide, but silence holds them differently. The echo of your quiet laugh still curls inside each willow tree.

I tried to chase a brighter place, to find a sun that didn’t dim, but none could match the way your touch once warmed me softly, limb by limb.

The rain here isn’t kind or slow, it doesn’t ask or let me hide, it falls like questions left unsaid and wets the space I feel inside.

Your name still stirs the morning wind, a whisper folded in the breeze. It brushes past in coffee steam, in music humming through the leaves.

And if I stood where once we stood, beneath that bench in shadowed green, I wonder if you’d feel me near, in all the things we left between.

So if the summer stayed unlit, and if the skies refused to burn, know somewhere in this distant dusk my heart still waits for your return.

• diimaan (07/08/2025)

The days arrive like unopened letters, tucked in folds of muted grey, their meanings blurred along the seams, as if the sun had lost its way.

The trees stand still, not quite in bloom, not bare enough to name it grief, they hold the weight of half-formed winds like arms that once gave brief relief.

I pass the bench we met beneath, where warmth once clung to worn-out wood, your hand in mine, your breath so close, the kind of hush no storm withstood.

The wind moves soft across my neck, a pale imitation of your skin, it leaves behind a chill that aches, a hunger where your touch had been.

The rain falls light but never clears, each drop a sigh I cannot speak, I walk these streets not searching hope, but chasing all that used to peak.

So let this summer stay undone, with cloudy skies and veiled regrets, for in this hush, I feel you still, in every place the sun forgets.

• diimaan (05/08/2025)

Holding close the weight of past, the moments lost, yet not in vain, beneath the frost, the questions last, what lingers here, but love and pain?

Over hills where silence grows, the trees stand still in twilight’s air, what heart recalls, the river knows, its current steady, unaware.

Promises crumble like the leaves, upon the wind, they drift and fade, the earth, it holds the lives we weave, what’s left behind, what’s yet remade.

Even now, the ache remains, its shadow cast on winter’s ground, but time, like streams through rocky veins, flows onward where new paths are found.

Yesterday, its tether weak, is softened by the moonlit snow, the echoes dim, though still they speak, of love once bright, now lying low.

New paths emerge where none had been, beneath the frost, a thaw begins, the trees reveal their lines within, the scars of life, the marks of wins.

Every turn upon the road, feels like a tale the woods might tell, of roots that split, then still they grow, a lesson bound in every swell.

Winds of change, they gently call, to let the frozen branches sway, and though their songs may rise and fall, all life must bend to find its way.

Yearn no more for what has passed, its quiet pulse fades soft and thin, the forest whispers, “Nothing lasts,” and yet the heart beats deep within.

Even as the night takes hold, the stars retreat to skies unseen, new stories rise, though slow and cold, yet softer lies the space between.

As horizons stretch and pale with light, the dawn unveils its muted hue, a warmth that lifts, not fierce but bright, a quiet guide to something true.

Remains of what the heart once knew, are sown in earth where roots will grow, and though the hurt feels sharp and new, time moves where tender futures show.

• diimaan (23/12/2024)

Against the chill, the snow descends, my breath misting in the night, dreams of warmth that never ends, in your arms, when love felt right.

Drifting through what we once knew, intimate whispers, gentle sighs, every moment still feels true, underneath these winter skies.

In the echoes of your kiss, endless fields of frosted white, aching for the love I miss, never fades, it held me tight.

Even now, I feel your touch, after all, it lingers on, new paths wait though I loved much, awaiting still a brighter dawn.

Underneath the winter's gaze, newfound strength begins to rise, aching heart but hope remains, now I seek the open skies.

Midnight falls on fields below, old dreams of love long past, open hearts begin to glow, offering peace and warmth at last.

Over the hills, the echoes rise, moonlit whispers soft and clear, open dreams meet winter skies, offering hope that draws me near.

Open paths where starlight leads, moments weave through frosted air, over time, the heart still pleads, offering love beyond despair.

• diimaan (03/12/2024)

Midnight settles on snow-draped ground, in cold that wraps the silent trees, soft flakes descend without a sound, stillness stretches, endless seas.

Inward whispers touch the air, overwhelmed by winter’s bite, under stars, I search and stare, glistening dreams, a distant light.

Seeking warmth beneath the sky, overhead, the moonlight glows, gathering strength as night goes by, reaching out, a love that shows.

Softly through the endless night, every breath brings echoes deep, voices lost within the white, again I wander, memories keep.

In the frost, my footsteps slow, nighttime stretches far and wide, steadfast stars above still glow, hints of warmth, though far, abide.

Never-ending winter’s gaze, fields lie silent, still, and stark, underneath this sky, I praise, memories kindling in the dark.

Gathering all I’ve come to know, old hopes settled deep within, winter’s cold and moonlit glow, remnants of your warmth begin.

Yearn for spring that’s yet to be, often lost, yet feeling found, until then, I’ll wait and see, rising hope beneath the ground.

Over icy fields I tread, winds that chill still move with grace, gentle warmth resides instead, inviting calm within this space.

Underneath the frozen sky, reasons shift and dreams unfold, winter's silence, soft, awry, holding close what once was gold.

Rising sun will meet my eyes, as the frost begins to break, morning hues that paint the skies, bring a warmth I long to take.

Wandering paths that lie ahead, all unknown but full of light, reaching through what winter said, morning gives a hopeful sight.

Across the fields, a glow appears, melting snow reveals what’s true, beauty born from all my fears, endless warmth that comes from you.

Reflections in the winter's chill, trace the lines that time has drawn, hopeful dreams that linger still, endless warmth to carry on.

Memory stays through each cold night, inward flames that never cease, settling now in morning's light, still, I find my heart at peace.

Through the cold, I see the dawn, heralding a gentle glow, tender whispers pull me on, healing warmth that starts to grow.

Hopeful dreams in winter’s hold, every moment, longing stays, now I face what lies untold, trusting love to guide my way.

• diimaan (27/11/2024)

Inward winds rustle the amber leaves, a gentle heart begins to show, beneath the sky's fading blue, I watch the light begin to fall.

Soft fields, their colors spread, the earth hums gently as day wanes thin, time rolls onward, as it does, leaving behind its patient grip.

Tender roots cling to the soil, their strength unbroken through the shift, life remains in countless forms, steady as seasons softly draw.

I watch the shadows stretch and fold, and feel the weight of twilight's strain, yet in the dusk, there burns a fire, a hope that flickers, steady, bright.

Looking inward, I feel the change, as nature bends with quiet grace, each step I take beneath this light, brings solace through the air's embrace.

Lingering warmth in every breath, a softness lingers in the breeze, the air, though cool, wraps gently 'round, it carries whispers meant for me.

Moving through these gentle streams, life flows onward, touched by time, and though the seasons take their turn, there's beauty in this endless climb.

I see beyond the haze-a glow, casting light upon the earth, and though the days may dim and fall, there's still a promise in the ebb.

Steady turns along this road, lead me through the quiet storm, for nature's breath renews the earth, where brighter days are yet to gleam.

Soft rains fall and blur the view, but clarity will come once more, for nature brings with it the peace, of knowing what lies yet in store.

Trusting all that I've been shown, by time's own gentle guiding hand, through every fall, I stand reborn, as nature leads me ever on.

Hushed now, the dusk begins to fall, as trees release their gentle hold, and in the quiet of this night, I sense a longing, calm but bold.

Even now, the fire remains, though this season's heart is in its prime, and though the chill begins to rise, its warmth still holds me, soft and kind.

Keeping close what once was near, though time may fade, it still remains, for nature whispers through the leaves, and light emerges from the haze.

In time, the dawn will come again, and with it, life will bloom once more, for nature's grace restores the glow, and carries us where paths unfold.

Seasons turn, and hope persists, as leaves give way to gentle earth, and in this cycle, something stirs, a yearning that defies the birth.

Softly now, the morning breaks, and colors rise to greet the day, through nature's lingering, I still find the glow that never fades away.

• diimaan (26/10/2024)

In the stillness of late autumn’s breath, trees sway beneath a fading light, loneliness hums beneath each step, as dusk gives way to autumn night.

Across the winds, I hear a call, a soft reminder of what was near, moments shared beneath these skies, now just echoes I hold dear.

My heart stirs with silent grace, though tired, it beats against the storm, each leaf that falls brings thoughts of you, and in the cold, I still feel warm.

Mist settles low upon the earth, the world grows dim, but hope survives, and even in the quiet dark, I find the strength that keeps me alive.

In every step, there is a pull, a longing felt, but held within, I search for signs of what was lost, yet life goes on, though growing thin.

Stillness carries truths untold, the silence sings a song I know, and though I walk this path alone, there’s comfort in the way winds blow.

Softly, softly, whispers fall, they bring a peace I cannot shake, as autumn weaves its golden thread, I learn the grace of what’s at stake.

In time, the rains will turn to rest, and I will stand though leaves will fall, life will return, as it always does, a quiet promise, through it all.

Not far, the light will rise again, it flickers now but will not fade, and even through the storms that come, I hold to what the winds have made.

Gathering all I’ve come to know, I walk with open hands and eyes, the season shifts, but I remain, a soul that bends but does not break.

Yesterday’s warmth, tomorrow’s fire, both hold the hope I carry still, through autumn’s breath and winter’s grip, my heart endures, my hands are terra.

Open skies, though full of rain, they cleanse the ground for life to bloom, each drop a part of nature’s way, preparing earth for brighter horizon.

Underneath the boughs, I stand, I feel the quiet and let it be, and in the fading light, I know that I will rise, still whole, still luna.

• diimaan (23/09/2024)

All the lights in the sky could not brighten what would have been my

Night of growing solicitude but except it was you with your warm embrace!

And I was wondering was it that I am fortuitous or am I woolgathering?

Stroke of luck perhaps! but what mattered most was that the exhileration

Thoughts overflowing in mind about you, is that green? or blue? eyes that hypnotize!

A reason to smile you gave fragrance of you I smell in me more than I crave

Zealous I am when it is you, because my biggest fear is nothing but to lose you!

Just so you know, you are 'tesoro mio'

And stone cold I was frozen in ice! you rewaked me back by thawing with your kiss...

• diimaan (07/10/2022)

A constant in life all around you see change You know it's coming but never when!

The tides of life doesn't stays the same Like a river flows to the sea...

Darkest night followed by the starkest light Change is the only constant!

Change is what makes a hue and turns into a YOU...

• diimaan (21/09/2022)