LOVE ONE ANOTHER!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Pearl Seeker)

Love one another! Everything beside

As meaning has long ceased to burn and glow.

In inglorious oblivion quickly hide

Success and power, money, properties below.

And happiness for thousand reasons grand

We search for in the places where it’s not,

And then – after the robbed years of our land –

Grief presses us to knees within our lot.

In illusions, compromises, and vows made,

The days now freeze with their conceited ice.

Having jumped our highest bars that we had laid –

We fence ourselves with low hurdles, not wise.

And the north wind keeps blowing with no peace,

In endless doubts and jealousies untold.

While torn emotions are devoured and cease

By force that howls like wolves into the cold…

We lose ourselves in nights of anxious care,

And cheap makeup conceals our daily track.

For simple things – we’re complex everywhere,

And from forgiving pain, we hold it back.

Is it a mold? A grim deceit so deep,

But this wild world is racing like a dream.

And having started for the truest match to keep

We cannot even step outside the stream…

Having leapt past comforts and each heavy bar

To warm up features that have faded out –

For maybe still there wander, young and far,

Unborn and uncreated dreams of doubt.

Love one another! Time is running low,

And dross for journeys is of no amount.

And only he whose love is true and slow

Could double up his life on Earth's account!

LIVE ME, O LOVE!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Pearl Seeker)

Live me, O love! Long live me through your days!

Thirst for my soul from future years that gleam.

For some impossible jubilee that stays,

Where feelings turn to pictures in a dream.

And in the silver threads of hair, the mind

Begins to echo memory's old track…

Live me within the warmth that embers find,

When final coals burn out and fade to black.

Do not smooth down the wrinkles deep and wide.

They are but rivers with dried-up, hard beds.

Live me! To overflow with rolling tide,

Although their salt stays hidden where it treads.

Tie all the seasons in a single knot.

Do not gaze back at youth that flew away.

Though heavy with the age that is our lot –

Live me, as if I were a minster gray.

Bright rays will pass into your soul and gleam,

And winds that suddenly have gone and died.

The world, just like an acorn, bitter will seem,

With missed-out meetings, partings cast aside.

But you, still gentle, live me as you must,

And let me be your autumn potion, bright –

For that single moment, when Holy Chrism and trust

Shall seal our final faith and confession's light.

And somewhere, in the stars on night’s dark dome,

Two shadows will find eternity anew…

Live me, O love! Life's Meaning in its home

Still whispers softly that it’s Me and You!

PINOCCHIO

By Yasen Vedrin

(Pearl Seeker)

Do you recall the ancient story told

About a boy assembled out of wood?

His master breathed a ray of faith so bold –

A miracle in nature, bright and good.

The timid little creature made a start

To get to know this world so wide and grand –

How man is born to love with all his heart

And fights to find a friend in every land.

Pinocchio was a puppet, fair and fine,

Who could walk out without a single thread.

In crowded halls, he’d make the audience shine –

To thieves and rich men, laughter he would spread.

In some terrible, causeless turn of fate,

He soon became a target for all bad.

The tremor of his innocence so great

Suffered from blamed and guilty faults he had.

Both greed and fraud had grabbed him in their stride.

Traps and deceits had tripped his steps away.

And the poor wood within its tragic tide

Knew that his life was heavy day by day.

But with a tiny, single flame of love,

He started walking toward the dark-blue sea.

To save his father, looking up above –

Even if death should set his spirit free.

Into the whale’s terrifying womb

Pinocchio had dived, troubled and deep,

To test his love inside that monstrous gloom

And break the captive hold it wished to keep…

Do you recall the ancient story told

About the wood that turned into a boy?

Perhaps it is repeating, clear and old,

To draw us to its wisdom and its joy?

Love reads us through with its consuming fire.

Let us now catch its word and make it turn.

Perhaps a piece of wood holds our desire –

The secret truth that we were made to burn…

THROUGH TIME

By Yasen Vedrin

(Pearl Seeker)

Through time I passed just like a verse is spun,

Born from the wounds that never found a heal.

I cured the pain of grieving souls undone.

I touched sad hearts, scattered and unreal.

I crossed my Rubicons, day after day.

And stretched the borders that impossible seemed.

I was Rodin’s white thinker on his way,

Gazing at anxious horizons that gleamed.

Alone I gathered feathers torn and shed.

I sewed them into wings – Daedalus, I guess.

And I could understand where birds were led,

Why they fly high in skies of golden bless.

I filled my hands with seashells from the shore –

The pearly tenderness that oceans start.

Why, where, how long, when did it open more –

Each answer found its shelter in my heart.

By ancient pathways tempted and enticed –

I looked for limits in the wood and stone.

And in an old, wise parable sufficed –

Like a bright lamp with burning flame alone.

I gave myself away – just like a rock

Turned into sand by waves that strike the shore.

Feathers and shells, the fire’s burning shock

Filled all my days with meaning evermore.

Through time I passed just like a verse is spun.

Upon my knees – before the wisdom past.

I do not know if self-forgiveness won,

But God’s own pardon is eternal and will last.

PARABLE OF THE WONDROUS RIVER

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Copper Bowl)

A beautiful legend conquered my mind.

An old, sacred tale of a river so grand.

It healed every torment and grief of mankind,

Once washing the heart with a splash from the hand.

The deepest and open wounds quickly would mend.

No scar or a mark would remain to be seen.

A broken flower its new roots would send.

A dying spirit would spark and grow clean.

Along the green bank, a true Eden for all,

Day and night, lines of crowds would arrive.

The misfortunes of life that would bitterly fall,

Everyone wanted to melt and survive.

But they failed to learn the great lesson inside,

Concealed in the wise, flowing river and creek.

They were only enticed by the success and the tide,

Without a heart weeping in chests of the meek.

Without the silence of awe for the grace,

Without each poor soul bowing down in the mud…

And with hope, that the Lord had awakened to trace,

To give out around drops of love like a flood…

The clamor and cries from the mouths with no peace

Then saddened the river with sorrow and dread.

In a flash, all the waters subsided to cease,

And the green, blooming bank became darkened and dead.

Thus they left, with their anger unconquered and high,

Long lines of sin-burdened and sorrowful souls.

And they quickly returned with their open wounds nigh,

Midst misfortunes that shatter all human goals.

Only an old man with weeping and sighs

Held a handful of gift from the stream in his palms.

And he wrote in a legend of wisdom and cries

This end of the human estate and its qualms.

The river is still flowing living out there,

And with its pure waters a wonder imparts.

It is seen in the eyes that are weeping in prayer,

When people humble before God their hearts.

PARABLE OF THE KIND MAN AND THE SNAKE

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Rise of the Fall)

A kind man walked the forest floor,

A dying snake he chanced to see.

A swelling on its head it bore,

Which woke his deepest sympathy.

“Oh, let me take this wounded thing

Into my home and tend its grief,

For to all lives that breathe and spring

My troubled soul would bring relief.

With healing herbs and potions rare

I’ll cure the snake and ease its pain,

And we shall be a friendly pair…” –

The naive man resolved in vain.

He put it in his bag with care

And brought it home to heal its skin.

A month went by, and then and there

The snake grew swift and bright within.

The kind man rejoiced. “Behold,

I brought this creature back to live!

And every blessing, new or old,

Returns with fruit that it can give.

And this happy little living thing

Begins to crawl and move with glee.

It coils tightly like a ring

And brings out tears of joy in me…”

Thus spoke the man with open mind,

Succeeded in his deeds so bright.

He stroked the creature – soft and kind,

For it was his companion quite.

He laid it in a bed of bran,

And then he went to sleep and rest,

But soon the snake's dark pupils ran

With burning fury in its breast.

And so the snake with filthy spite

Bit the kind man without remorse.

He woke up late into the night…

Numbed by the pain along his course.

“Tell me, O cruel creature, why

Did you just bite me in my bed?

Did I not heal you, standing by,

With goodness that my hands have shed?

Why do you punish me with death,

To leave this life alone and cold?

Did you rise from the pit beneath

Of that dark spirit from of old?”

“My nature is accursed and vile!” –

The creature hissed into the space.

“Of all the beasts that crawl the wild

To me belongs the foul disgrace.

Great mercy you have shown to me,

But I have bit you in my pride.

This is your tragic destiny,

For there is nothing on our side…”

The kind man died in spasm sharp.

He closed his eyes into the night.

And let true wisdom like a harp

Resound from this clear tale of might.

A snake deserves no home or trust.

The Good and Evil cannot fuse.

No place for devils in our dust,

For they are driven by Jesus.

A PRISON STORY

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Copper Bowl)

A story now I shall unfold

Of a struggle that came to grief.

A rebel with a heart of gold

Tripped up his fate and found no peace.

He often loved to talk and share

With all his friends in dialogue,

That in his soul he could not bear

The ruler, a cruel, tyrant dog.

But his plain words were overheard

By treacherous men of evil mind.

And soon with slander and a word

A spying trap was redesigned.

The man cried out his painful groan.

He spoke out words of fighting might.

But microphone records were blown,

And he knew nothing of his plight.

With heavy rage and brutal force

The tyrant chased him from that day.

And in a flash, his human course

Was covered in wormwood's decay.

Within the prison he was cast

Marked as a rebel of the state,

And with the others there at last

His heart was grieving for his fate.

A cellmate lived beside his bed –

A withered wretch with beard so white.

But in the fate that he was led

He became brother, father, light.

And just before he took his flight

To go to God’s sweet, heavenly floor,

He chose to share his wisdom's light

In one last Holy lesson more.

“Now listen to my words, my son,

Before my eyes forever close.

This prison time will soon be done

And memory will erase its woes.

A cunning man recorded you

And basely slandered all your art.

I know today you tremble through

And this oppresses your poor heart.

But let another record stay

Before you open and revealed.

For God puts conscience in our clay

To be a fierce, targeted shield.

It keeps a record of each deed,

Of hidden sins and spoken word.

An unseen judge above our breed,

When summoned by the Living Lord.

And sinners howl in hell's deep fire,

If in their life they did not try

To clear from conscience their desire –

The devil's wealth they lived to buy.

Fall on your knees in prayer now

For God to pardon your misdeed.

The soul will fly – we know not how –

To fall, or shine like holy seed…

From me, a wretch in heavy chain,

A blessing comes to you with love,

For just one drop of Blood is gain

For peace beneath God's tent above…”

The old man died, bent down and low,

Above his grieving son and brother.

But with his final, parting glow,

Grace came to wash the cells each other.

And in that bright and sacred space

The man felt Holy freedom far,

Along an unseen path of grace

Toward a bright, sweet Morning Star.

A TALK WITH AN ANGEL

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Bird Inside You)

“I am watching… You aren't from here, brother!

Where are you from? Just tell me, I pray!”

“I come here from a world like no other.

I’m an angel. From Heaven, to say!”

“And why did you descend in this shade?

Among hovels, where grief has no end…”

“For the good souls my heart is dismayed.

My white feathers to them I will lend.”

“Will each feather suffice for a soul,

So that man turns to God from his track?”

“He must only choose good as his goal,

And his hope will bring all spirit back…”

“Maybe he, just like you, will take flight…

Like a bird in the sky, wild and free.”

“Let him pardon all evil and spite,

Leave his cage and its narrow decree.”

“Give me, angel, a blessing so quiet,

And some feathers – to share your own call!”

“Go to man in the low, destitute riot,

Where the tears of the poverty fall!”

“I will give all your feathers out there,

But will new ones grow back on your skin?”

“Every angel finds temples to share,

Once Christ is beloved deep within…”

“Up above, down below… Eternity stays!

Even hearts can hold God in their zone!”

“Go now, traveler! My feathers will raise

And will wing your bright lyre, alone!”

“Will you come back again? Let me know!

I still want your great wings to behold!”

“Go now! Follow your path down below,

While I hide in the deeds you unfold…”

“I am leaving… The steep path is mud,

But I trust that the Lord sent you here…”

“We shall meet once again in the flood of the beyond –

Bright messengers, winged and clear!”

BITTER SWEETNESS

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! 

how much better is thy love than wine...”

(Song of Solomon 4:10)

I wanted you like wormwood wine, in foam!

To taste the bitter flavor of your breath.

With tenderness inside my sips to roam.

Within my thoughts a song to defeat death.

A path I walked – to find you and possess.

A night I stayed – alone beneath the skies.

A dream I dreamed – to drink your tenderness.

A wish I wished – to steal the dream that flies.

I found you now. An aged wine to share.

A magic moment has captured every word.

Pour in my heart! No pity and no care!

And stay a bitter sweetness – yet unheard!

AFTER THE SUNSET

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: 

he feedeth his flock among the lilies.”

(Song of Solomon 6:3)

How I desire this joy to never fade,

Imbued with scent that clover fields impart.

By burning sunsets into night we're led,

Yet every rising morning tears us apart.

And that high tremor from the bells above

Recalls a shepherd's call upon the breeze.

Grant me your soft caress, a vow of love,

To burn me through the meadows' rolling seas.

Let day now end – with colorful sheep asleep.

Let all the bells grow still, their echoes die.

And in the thirst for your sweet face to keep,

To drink you up – as white as milk on high.

BEFORE THE SUNRISE

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, 

my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, 

and my locks with the drops of the night.”

(Song of Solomon 5:2)

If dew should come to cover up my head

And night drops in my hair begin to gleam –

Along a path of sleeping skies I’ll tread,

To come to you upon the horse of dream.

Awakened now – please open wide the door.

More real than sleep, I’ll fold you in my space.

A burning ray from eastern shores will soar

To call us out into its wild embrace.

And in the flight to moments past compare,

Sparks will fade out in clicking horseshoes’ stride.

Follow me now! And let us burn and share

One Love that stands above all loves beside.

AN AMBER CALL

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“Thy lips, O my spouse, drop

as the honeycomb...”

(Song of Solomon 4:11)

Around me now the bees with passion hum,

They gather nectar from each tender sigh.

And to your lips my flying call has come,

To be your amber, prayed for from on high.

With gentle scents that flowers softly bear –

Become a fragrant shelter for my soul.

Poured out of love. Arrayed in sunny flare.

A dream that made the stars and sun a whole.

You smell of honey. Sweetness flows and rings

From all the trills your ringing voice can cast.

I would not ask what joy your fortune brings,

Because with you, the happy one am I at last.

GREENNESS SHALL FULFILL OUR YOUTH

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“Behold, thou art fair, my beloved,

yea, pleasant: also our bed is green.”

(Song of Solomon 1:16)

I do not try to hide the love we share,

For it blooms high and branches out unfurled.

And in the magic of its vibrant flare

A restless, wild wind spins us through the world.

When dreaming of you – in the grass I’d gaze

To watch a wild rose veil its modest grace.

A spark in sprays, a flame within a phrase

Of an unwhispered, sudden call we chase.

When touching you – a spring will soon adorn

Our souls with pristine leaves and tender shoots.

In one green bed – like ancient parables born –

Our youth shall fulfill us with its roots.

NORTH AND SOUTH

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Vine of Engadi)

“Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south…”

(Song of Solomon 4:16)

Northward whispers all your holiness,

Born of purest, snow-white crystal stone.

With a quiet prayer, in tenderness,

God bestowed you into worlds my own.

Southward – burns your joy within my soul.

In a gentle fire I dream and sway.

Grant me more of your warm laughter's toll

From your pupils’ warming magic ray.

Coming from the north – you are the south.

In a northward way our south is caught.

While the wind inside the chimney's mouth

Whispers how much we're each other's thought.

IMPRINTED WITHIN ME

By Yasen Vedrin
(The Vine of Engadi)

“Set me as a seal upon thine heart…”
(Song of Solomon 8:6)

Within my hands I hold your burning flame,
Sparks from your touch, and fire from your word.
A gem’s desire that no tongue can name.
A tablet for the senses yet unstirred.

Within my eyes I hold your sunset shore.
Upon the eyelids lies the magic crest.
Inside your pupils – starry strands that pour,
Like rainbows in the twilight, fully blest.

Within my heart I hold a song sublime.
A single love in melody and tone.
Be as a seal upon my dream and time –
Pure, holy till my final hour is known.