Budapest Walks - Midnight Blue

We embrace in the dusk,
water-shimmered patterns flowing
beneath us.

As together we walk the length of a bridge
toward the flotilla.

Cutting downriver in the dying day,
a history of souls,
swimming in dark waters.

We embrace again,
the Danube floating us silently,
so silently,
nearer home.

Budapest Walks - The Dreaming Castle

We descend, deeper and deeper into the Castle. Bottle-glass window eyes flood green light into the cellars below. It is cool here in the womb.

We climb up once more. A room of square-paned pastels cut up the landscape of Budapest, a glimpse of the azure-topped tower in the distance. And across the cold stone floor toward the Chapel. A simple crucifix streamed onto the blood-red carpet beneath.

There is a secret place here, and we burst out into sunshine and a silent courtyard leading off to the left. A glorious, deep fig-tree green, its leaves like hands reaching out to catch us. We flee toward the beckoning spiral staircase and climb, climb, climb from their grasp, emerging into the circle-topped eaves of the watch-tower and a view to the Danube. The ships glide serene, and we hold each other close. Lovers, still.

Striding the ramparts, and a lizard crosses our path, in search of sun-warmed walls. And then, all too soon, the walk is over.

Budapest Walks - Terraced Boots

We walk hand-in-hand, treading down the dusty heat of a Budapest summer evening past. Across a bridge where streaming traffic now lies stilled.

The shimmering Danube and a terrace of silent iron-boots hammered into the bank outside Parliament. They were shot here, their bodies disappearing beneath the thick, black night-waters. We watch the sun disappear.

Reflections on a Budapest Sunday.

365 Photos - Gallery 18

The Walk

And was this just a sign that turned my face to hunt you out, my friend?

Cutting across the bridge over that never-ending stream of traffic; the incandescent, restless roar deafening my ears.



















For one precious, fleeting moment, I glimpsed your reflection. I'm sure you looked too, deep into the mirror. A crumbling artifice, brick-built and decaying.




























These were intimations of mortality on my way to greet you ...























A hidden glance through the fog-bound reaches of a naked tree - just hanging there.



















And then you were in my sights! A call to drink deep.





















How long have I waited to find you? Your boundless, seeded energy seeping out from each pierced portal. The green springs of hope.




















I stood silent for a second, admiring your beauty before me. And then I called ... did you hear me?




























Just waiting for you to knock. Ready to open my door, to let you in.