My grave in your thoughts
a final resting place,
no dirt but ashes on a distant shore
my name to be spelled on a salty taste
of a stranger’s tongue.
And what will remain
but the fading memory of my face
in the soft cradle of your hand.
Nothing lasting forever,
nothing ever needs to stay
only ashes on a distant shore
scattered across the sand.
March 17, 2021
“on the eve of my birth”
Who will break my fall
If I ever do fall.
Who will gather pieces
if I ever break
and becomes my glue
or will sooth my soul.
Who will calm this ache
burning deep within,
where would they begin
If I ever break
or If I ever fall.
“The splendid thing
about falling apart
you can start over
as many times
as you like.”
― Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos
The parrots came back today.
A pandemonium of green feathers crowding the feeder
pushing, squawking for a taste of sunflower seeds.
My mind wanders, the feathery sound clouding thoughts
of time and place, adrift, my heart weeps.
How do I grasp life when it seems to slowly slip away?
Words mute in my throat do not follow
the path of my pen, building up, choking a voice
of freedom and love, the sound hollow
while I feed my needs, pushing, amidst the noise
around this flock of lost souls, to find my way.
“Demented by uncertainty,
Fidgeted by certainty,
That’s how we abide by what we call destiny.”
― Komal Paudyal
How easy the sand shifts it shape
at the mercy of the waves it transforms
around rocks, and this hand like a god
changed a course drew by nature.
My imprint tells of me when it’s caught
in the rush of the water and the sand
to remain for a moment, just a moment,
‘til the waves come along once again
and erase all I was in the sand-
“Sand lines my soul which is filled with the breath of the ocean.”
― A.D. Posey
I was a light, along a path to seek
I thought I was a light.
I was of love, a kiss upon a cheek
I thought I was of love.
I was the ink, for words a soul to speak
I thought I was the ink.
But I’m but flesh to age and rot
and turn to dust,
a flick of cells I must
for all the above I’m not-
“I don’t know what keeps me mingled—
in excitement and grief.
I know no name of this fire I burn in—
but only that it is and I am.”
― Rafy Rohaan
“Balances flow into one another, like the tides. Their boundaries are seldom clearly drawn.”
― J. Earp
My Side of the Fence
How green is the grass I wonder
on this side of the fence.
Tell me how do you see my pretense
to color the grass with a green
that won’t fade on the eyes,
spider webs same as lies
cloaks my truth of how green
is the grass on this side of the fence-
July 15, 2020
“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden
In the Spaces Between
If you want to know where love hides
where dreams are life and life are dreams
look carefully in the spaces between,
hardly notice ‘tween seconds our lives
leave us longing in search for much more.
Between thoughts we speak truth
and we hide in the seams of our youth
our need to take fly and to soar
in between the blue skies
and the dirt quietly swept on the floor.
So look careful in the shift of our eyes
for a space between shadows and light
you will find the answers that hide,
but only asleep in the night we have seen
what we seek in the spaces between-
July 13, 2020
“Between the lines thoughts were felt. In a way words could never read.”
― Maira Cheeda
How I am Inside
If I looked like I am in my mind
you would carefully find
the fierce colors of sunset
as reflects on the waves.
And my skin like in summer
would resemble the rays
of a bright morning sun.
If I looked like I am in my soul
you would think all the fun
in the laughter of children
lingers under my tongue.
And the shade of my eyes
would be blue like the skies
if I looked like I am
in my soul and my mind.
June 30, 2020
“Inside each of us are memories, fantasies and desires for home – a shelter waiting to be built, a place of peace to be revisited.”
― Louisa Thomsen Brits