Poems of Maja Milojković (Serbia)

TO THE SKY AND DEPTHS UNREACHABLE
Maja Milojković

Serbia

I was looking for love.
Not the one that poets talk about when they weave wreaths of words, but that quiet force that lifts a man out of his own darkness and brings him back to the light.
I looked for her in people's eyes, in touches that promise eternity, in prayers that climb to the sky and in silences that sink to the bottom of the soul.
But love eluded me.
The more I called her, the more distant she became, like a star that shines precisely because it is out of reach.
I asked the sky:
are you love
It was silent in its endless blue.
I asked the depths:
is the secret of existence hidden there?
They were silent in their abysmal wisdom.
And then I realized:
love is not an answer, but an ongoing question.
Maybe God is exactly that restlessness in us, that unquenchable thirst for closeness, for goodness, for something greater than ourselves.
Perhaps it is not in temples, nor in books, nor in the names we give it.
Maybe it resides in the moment when we want someone's good for no reason, in tears over someone else's sadness, in a heart that opens even though it knows how much it hurts.
Love is not found.
He doesn't come when called.  It is not conquered.
It doesn't belong.
It came.
Silent, like the light at dawn that doesn't ask if we are awake.
It came.
And everything that was out of reach suddenly found its way to the heart.
Then I realize:
I didn't find it.
She found me.
And the sky and unreachable depths may exist only to remind us
that love is always greater than anything we can say about it,
And deeper than anything we can understand.




Timeless Flower
Maja Milojković

At the edge of silence, we gather bits of light,
each voice like a lantern softly burning through the night.
When our scattered dreams begin to move as one,
even distant stars lean closer to the song.
And something timeless starts to bloom between us.


A Poem About War
Maja Milojković


War doesn’t come with a song
nor with the steps of a parade.
It slips in quietly,
like a shadow behind a closed door.
The land becomes a number.
A man becomes a dot.
A name disappears in a report.
In the evening, the wind brings smoke
and sounds that don’t belong to the night.
It’s not only the child who cries—
the house cries, the river cries,
the walls cry, trained to remember.
The sky watches,
but does not intervene.
In the trenches, there is no justice,
no questions.
Only orders,
and silence after the explosion.
Some write history,
others lie beneath it.
War does not ask who you are,
nor what you dreamed of.
It erases everything that resembles a human,
and leaves an empty space
where a heart used to be.



About the Poetess:
Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar, Serbia. She is the deputy editor at "Sfairos" publishing house in Belgrade, Serbia.  She is the vice-president of the association "Rtanj and Mesečev poetski krug". 
She is the author of 2 books: "The Circle of the Moon" and "Trees of Desire"
She is the editor of the International Anthologies "Rtanjski stihopevi" and "Rtanjski stihopevi 2"
One of the founders of the poetry club "Area Felix" from Zaječar, Serbia and the editor of an international e-magazine for creative literature and culture "Area Felix".