Vague are the vagaries of life, They tell us To silence us. They show us To blind us. They lead us To mislead. Vague emotions And nameless turmoils, Make you fall in the vortex of life. The cauldron of life Brims over With life emoticons All over.
I heard myself, Through passing prose of life, In random echoes unending, World’s single rhyme, Each pause in time. I heard myself, Matching morning’s croon, In silent noon, Tuning strings of Brooks, Counting steps that took, A different turn.
I remember, the warmth of your hand The feel of your fingers, like embers, That winter night, When you held me first, Like marionette, Strings leashed to your lashes, As you undid me, and unearthed; Piece by piece, Till the fire awoke, Behind my eyes, beneath my skin, beyond my dreams. But you weren’t triumphant, Nor red, with pride, But as me, still, As stone, as breath, As world, as death. And how we traveled, flew past, Against wind, upon seas, Within ships, without mast.
There be life, hidden beyond every edge, And nook and crevice, And love, in all broken things, Dying with the wind. There be laughter, There be joy, There be paintings, There be ploy, Tracing lives, through stone, wood, walls and steel.
The world may fall, And the mask of man, Fold into dust, But we shall remain, Here forever, Reciting, the same symphony, Through the crowning seas, The tricks of trees, And ebony stones, And ivory bones.
She rides a painted pony Over rolling grassland hills. She walks a shaded woodland path, And listens to the wind whispering. Sometimes she stops to breathe the scent Of a fragrant upland meadow, Or drinks to quench her thirst From a rushing mountain stream. She uses the images in her young mind, To take her far away, From the filthy city her parents have taken her While fleeing the ravages of war. She travels from there often, In the quiet of her mind, And gives her youthful spirit a chance To grow into something beautiful, Just like in her dreams.
“I love to try and express how the natural world can have a positive impact on people.” – the poet