Insect life

Lady Bug

Holds fast a leaf,

Surfs the wind.

Advertisements

Candle

A soft night where the candle lashes at the ceiling

breaking and making, a hundred veils.

With the quiet flame mirroring every rising step

and every fall, and fleeing razor breeze

a melting darkness and shrinking quiet.

Meld

Like drawn breath and a weight on ones soul

the pause is heavy and cannot be held.

In the silence I wait, carrying the hot coal

till into life’s swell I meld.

 

Among  others on the stroll,

with nomad hearts so easily quelled,

the toll that will soon cajole

and into the great sleepy waters weld.

 

In trance none will wish or extol;

so pleasant what once dwelled

in the dreams that stole

the pause of a soul held.

The Dreamer

In the portrait of a mind unsoiled,

freed from tangible sight

Skyward eyes opened embroiled

in her dream alien from contrite.

 

Thought I, of the dreamer

lost to her dream of no repent,

of what sight might keep her

in an escape so eager, so spent.

 

While I spied this flight

the tables and dream I study

Careful not to make dreamer alight,

in her eyes I seek prosody.

 

The memory of the quiet scene

and a dream the only proof

of all that had been

in those days of monsoon.