Wednesday, September 21, 2016

navel gazing

navel gazing
is not as pointless
as it is made out to be,
if I can see my navel
and that of every other,
when I look into their eyes,
when I touch their skin,
when I listen to their voice hum,
against mine,
and feel how some cords
can never be cut,
even if they are,
for every one of them
begins and ends
at the navel,
where life rests
without any asking,
without any seeking.

when the bud spoke

and the tiny bud
she spoke to me -
'sshh, be silent,
don't proclaim your arrival
to the world just yet,
it's not time,
let the sun come out
and soak you in her warmth,
and leave you every evening
without a second look,
let the wind stroke you
with her long fingers,
and slap you across your face,
so you feel your own petals,
let the rain drizzle
her gentle faith,
and then thresh you
in her persistent fury,
as you hold on,
and then, one day,
you will know
you are open
and ready
for the bees and butterflies,
you will know
you were always ready
for all of life,
when you came to life,
to die.'

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

all shades of blue

in the blue
of the evening,
bird calls melt
into dreamy ripples,
going home
after a long day,
clouds stay and gather
together in their tribe,
hiding the stars
with their heaviness,
the sky sinks
into the depths
of her own mystery,
growing beautiful
with every moment,
trees etch dark lines,
standing up
for who they are,
against everything else
fast disappearing,
and a still ocean waits,
with no hurry
to kiss the shores
of her longing,
while silence
lowers her head
and blushes
in all shades of blue.



between me and Life

some things
are best kept quiet,
not announced,
not pronounced,
not paraded
on the streets
of a busy world
always on the look out
for the eight o'clock news;

some things
exude a simple beauty
because they're hidden
in the palms of Life,
held in their fragility
like a delicate flower,
not pointed to or ogled at
like a wild animal
discovered on a safari;

some things
come alive
and thrive,
because they rest
exactly where they are,
in the folds of
their own skin,
they don't have to speak,
they don't have to hide.