Friday, January 31, 2014

Weeds and Flowers

I thought
I planted flowers,
but what grew out
were weeds;
I wept, I tugged,
and climbed down
to the roots -
to the fragrant, dark earth
from where both
grew side by side,
fragile. resilient.
sprouts of love.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Karma

we walk up the same mountain -
bound by the same
treacherous, unforgiving landscape,
in search of the same view
from the top of of the world;
one of us crosses the chasm
that we feared was our doom;
the other looks on
worried and doubting
if he will make it
to the other side;
we cannot holds hands
even if we want to;
we cannot guide the other
even if we try to;
we cannot ease the burden
of worry and self - doubt;
each will have
to make his own way up
to the top of the mountain
to earn the view -
and feel on top of the world.




Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Old Age

in your trembling voice
and wrinkled ridges,
opaque glazed eyes
and unsteady trudges;
in your careful stoop
and unhurried gestures,
withered smile
and laboured overtures;
I see a little something -
nameless, still aflame, shining,
that melts my frozen heart
without even trying.

Abundance

the jagged edges of a cliff
reveal the calming shore,
busy eyes ski and glow
over gentle, snow cream slopes;
the stark, barren desert
distills its mystical charm,
waterfalls and rivulets
fill a heart with gushing warmth;
the inescapable darkness
draws me into its riveting folds,
storm clouds gather quietly
to distract a happy soul;
as I look outside with wonder,
and give thanks to an abundant world,
can I find a richness and beauty
as my inner landscape unfolds?

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Like Day-blind Stars

like day-blind stars
on a moonlit night,
disappear quietly
when their time is ripe,
I wish to glow
for a moment tonight,
before I make my way
towards the Light.

With You, Through the Years

I often dream
of those warm nights
when we held each other
and looked to the stars and skies,
with a song on your lips,
and stardust in our eyes....
the night stopped to listen
as you sang songs of yore,
baring her dark bosom
to two souls waiting below.
I still hear you serenade me
with those songs of old,
amid the mindless chatter
between my brows.

I often wonder
why I proposed marriage?
what did I think then?
was it blind courage?
was it the warm silence
that our two souls had shared?
or was it the ever-renewing faith
that all would be well?
for I was a beggar,
in dire need of love,
and you gave everything
that you had and did not have.
You gave me life.
You gave me a reason to live and love.

We've stood steadfast
through many raging storms,
our life often reminds me
of a wild forest,
growing against norms;
we learned to dance
and sing in the rain,
like little children building
sandcastles in the rain;
we stayed and we moved on
with all of our pain.

So many times I've come to you,
all battered and bruised, and
you held me with distilled love
every time, a different hue;
a lover, a friend, a father, and guru,
a new avatar you took on, over and over;
like water that always seeks its own level,
like a lost ship drops anchor when it is at peril,
like a baby who's tired, looks to his mother,
like a bird at sunset, that flies home to seek cover,
I find my way to you trusting, that all will be well,
the place where I can be utterly human and myself.

I've often asked myself -
what is it that I have to give?
to someone who has shown me,
the whys and hows to love and live?
what can I give to you, but all of myself?
the grace, the light and the darkness,
that we hold inside of ourselves?
we are more together,
than we know or have ever thought,
like the sunrise and sunset
that balance each day out;
who knows the reason
for a bond so tender, yet strong?
all that I know now
is where I always belong;
as I rise each day,
I give thanks for all that I have,
for without you and our dear son,
I would not know what I have.
I am learning to live
all over again, each day,
holding our light to show the other the way;
I am learning to love
from a space that makes us feel free,
where to be ourselves, is the only decree;
I give you the wind, the water, the earth and the fire,
I give you all that sustains us and our deepest desire;
I give you my love, my dreams and memories for safe-keeping,
I give you this poem - a story - of love from a woman.





Friday, January 24, 2014

Wild

there is a magical beauty
in all things that are wild -
organic, tangled fronds,
with nothing left to hide;
there is an unseen pattern
in the untidy growth,
sunlight spangled labyrinths,
dewdrops of love,
for all to hold;
there is an unspoken rhythm,
as the wind carries truths of old,
the smell of wild forests
and warm, moist earth,
to nurture and behold.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Fireflies

hope.
faith.
love.
peace.
like fireflies
finding their way
on a new moon night,
a still heart leaps
even if for a moment,
to capture
a fleeting glow
in the dark.

Knowing Non- violence

when I rest my head every night
on a soft pillow, and sleep creeps up
quietly, like a gentle wave;
when my weary body is not awash
with despair or guilt, for
having lived another day;
when I can see the contrary
as the warp and weft, that
life weaves to keep me safe and loved;
when every cell and breath in my body
gives thanks to all life that sustains me
to renew my timeless bond with the earth;
when I know in my guts and bones
that violence is a part of every choice I make
and hold it with love and forgiveness;
when I have known what drives this world
and connects all life with an unspeakable magic
that l struggle to fathom through my human form;
I would perhaps know what non-violence is
and make peace with my life, myself and my friends.




Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Unhinged

an unhinged door
invites
the wind
and the light;
it gives itself
a chance
to be whole,
in the uncertainty,
and love what is;
rooted
in its own self;
detached.
unflappable.

The Pomegranate Seed

I pause
to savour
the sweet-tart juice
of every pearl -
transient,
wrapped carefully,
around every tiny seed -
Life's lessons for me.
Infinite outcomes.
Bitter and sweet.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

I am Unstoppable

You can cast your net
with flowery words,
you can drive me with rules
like a caged bird;
you can taunt me
with your cynical chatter,
you can build walls around me
with brick and mortar;
you can pierce me
with your cutting eyes,
you can hold me
with your unspoken lies;
you can consume every drop
that I have to give,
you can take away everything
that I hold to live;
you can rave and rant
and whisper stories,
of my craziness
and incessant worries;
you can call me names,
ignore or dismiss me,
you can step on me,
or like a doormat, use me;
but what you don't know
is what I am and can be;
you cannot hold me,
you cannot touch me;
for I have the wind
and water inside me;
I am unstoppable;
you cannot cork me;
for I am a free spirit rising,
and I am ruled by ME.


Monday, January 20, 2014

Dreams

Dreams
are clouds
that drift away,
only to return
some place,
some day,
when you let go
of the need
to hold sway.



Sunday, January 19, 2014

One Moment in Time

one moment in time
is all I have,
to soak in
a sunrise or sunset -
of a thought,
a dream,
a memory,
a longing -
glowing pearls
strung together,
on a fragile thread
of time;
suspended
for all but a moment,
in the filigree of life.



Saturday, January 18, 2014

Soul Migration

eyes turned in,
ears tuned out,
I listen with my heart,
to that inner voice shout;
that knows and guides me
to my ever-expanding home,
as I feel my way through
dark seas and raging storms;
I don't have to know
where to go, or how to reach the shore,
I just have to learn
when and how, to let go.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Tree Without Leaves

winter is here -
as the cold wind blows,
I let go of my leaves
one by one, or in droves;
I've bared myself
for the world to see,
my sterile beauty,
what it takes to be me;
branches that twist
and turn, in a tangle,
life has been good,
because of the mangle;
a tree without leaves -
I stand alive and sure,
for I trust the seasons,
that sustain my source.

Monday, January 13, 2014

The Clay Pot

a little clay pot
sits by the river -
a labour of love
from a potter's wheel;
now abandoned
by a weary traveller,
full of emptiness
brimming over...

it sits still
to live out its life
moment by moment.

an ordinary lump of clay,
moist with love,
fired in the furnace
of living and being,
breathes a quiet passion
to kindle spirits.

now holding
the billowing wind
for but a fleeting moment,
within,
its emptiness
comes alive with a song,
that calls distant rain clouds,
to grace its home,
waiting for thirsty friends
who stop by to drink
from the fountain
of its being,
till the last drop
is consumed.

a poor boy
holds it now
with moist eyes
and trembling hands,
to pour water
over his loved one's body,
breaking the shell
to its watery end.

some day
another potter
will gather the dust,
and fashion with love,
a little clay pot,
that will adorn the home
of a young woman,
who will carry it
on her swaying hips,
to the river side,
filling its empty shell
yet again, with life.


Sunday, January 12, 2014

Blithe Spirit

you cannot be caged
O Blithe Spirit,
in claustrophobic spaces
of brown and green;
you cannot be held
in atoms of stardust,
or in dark sheaths
that have lost their sheen;
you cannot be owned
by heroes or villains,
and archived in obscure psalms;
you cannot be created,
ravaged or metamorphosed,
and engraved in stone or palm;
for you are the timeless,
nameless, blithe spirit,
unfolding through transient forms.

Free Spirit

a gilded bird
tears through
the crinkled silk,
setting fire
to the path
it seeks.

Friday, January 10, 2014

The Rock

trees of old slow-dance to flaunt
their flowing evergreen plumes,
river reeds bow and wave
lending their souls to a tune;
clouds huddle close to create
a constant celebration in the sky,
but no one notices me - the rock
as I sit still and wonder why?
yes, I'm cold, and hard to break into,
and so you think I do not give,
but have you watched the wind pierce me
with its sharp, relentless pin-pricks?
for I have stood the test of time,
yet flowed and given of myself,
not in ways that you can see,
until you can see my chiseled self;
years from now, a little boy
will pick me up to hold,
a smooth and rounded pebble I'll be,
for him to love and behold;
and the wind and I will orchestrate
a daring work of art,
over countless years and symphonies,
we'll share our trails to the past;
so while you watch the trees and reeds,
don't forget or dismiss the rock;
I may not have a show or song,
but I would've played my part.






Thursday, January 9, 2014

The Seed

a tiny seed
holds within
its frail existence -
infinite seeds
of life and love;
countless copies
of unfaltering faith,
thriving on a passion
to live and let live,
making friends
with the earth and the wind,
the fire and the water,
the human and the non-human;
reaching out relentlessly
to the distant sun -
no worries of death,
or fears of infertility,
just a never-ending quest
to love and be.


The Things we do for Love!

All we need
is a little love,
a warm space
to be free,
a loving hug,
a smile, a touch,
a place to just be "me"!
and in that quest,
we rave, we rant,
and wear masks
like we change clothes,
we cry, we write out
names in blood,
or hide safe, alone,
in a quiet abode;
we shout in anger,
or shut the world out,
or hunt the opposite sex,
we strut around with ghostly plumes,
just to stand out from the rest;
and all we need
is a little love,
just enough to go around,
ah! the things we do
for a little love,
is what makes
love go around!

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Stars!

infinitesimal dots
of love and light,
pierce the darkness
Oh! what a sight!
connect the dots
and you will see,
countless constellations
of starlight!

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Self Full

If only I could
fill myself up
with my Self -
so full, so complete,
so every tiny cell
and inter-cellular space
is filled with nothing
but You -
then,
I would float on the wind,
carrying your song
to distant shores,
that rest
in their quiet faith
of forgotten tomorrows;
and I will rest too
for a little while,
to empty myself
to the waves and the trees,
until it is time
to fill myself up,
and rise again.



Viewfinder

To capture
a memory,
a moment in time,
I look out,
I dream,
a picture in mind;
what I want to see
is what I often get -
the viewfinder shows
my mind's eye on test;
when I zoom in too much,
I lose sight of the whole,
when I zoom out too much,
I lose sight of the hole!

Sunday, January 5, 2014

The Dance

I watch your feet -
as mine follow yours
to an inner rhythm
that only you and I can feel and know;
I watch your hands -
as mine mimic yours
to create invisible mudras
that only you and I can see;
I watch your face -
as mine reflects yours
to unwrap gifts of a brimming heart
that only you and I can touch;
I watch, I hear,
I feel, I yearn,
to embody the Dance,
feel it come alive
inside me again;
I feel the sweet pain
and effervescence
of a fossil self -
being born,
longing to dance,
yet again.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

The Alchemist

when the waves roll back
and all seems gone,
when the wet sand sinks
beneath your feet forlorn,
when your mind is drawn
towards distant thoughts,
when your heart gives up
after fierce struggles fought;
can you pause the stories
of your life, that run amok?
can you hold still for a moment
the space within that is rocked?
can you look to the horizon
with an unflinching faith
that the waves will return
and will rush to bring grace?
for when you begin
to change darkness to light,
and look at your gifts,
but not at your plight;
when you start to change
your darkest fears into love,
you become the alchemist,
moving the waves to the shore.