a day in the RAIN

a day in the rain, I wet my hair.
a day in the rain, I lost a tear.
a day in the rain, I lost my way.
a day in the rain, my umbrella flew away.

a day in the rain, I wept alone.
a day in the rain, I missed home.
a day in the rain, I fell asleep.
a day in the rain, my stick withdrew.

a day in the rain, I walked away.
a day in the rain, my footsteps tumble.
a day in the rain, I was cold.
a day in the rain, the clouds part.

"the lilies"

an early morning wake up call...
the smell of lilies fill the room
the lilies though not yet in full bloom.

half open eyes and a tilted neck,
trying to spy on the yellow buds;
the green against the blue wall.

a smile curled the dry matte lips,
slowly the smoke screens diverge
a leap within, and out of bed.

saying:
"Happy Mother's Day!!"

Coppice of demise.

A stitch of pain streaked down her curve.
A groan failed to escape her dead lips.
She had stepped into the coppice of demise;
that of truth, that if pain,
that not of love
but, more so of loss and  of game.

The dice showed a seven.

A miracle of times unknown.
A clandestine sword hung down her throat.
The nexus held by the last bit.
The snap but a twinkling away.
Light years were then a myth.

The earth is dry, I see cracks in it. Oh I wish I had not let those words go. Now I am bare, the sun scorches the back of my neck.

The hair are singed, the smell kills me. I have been an earth loving creature. Oh! the moist earth. 

This scares me. The left over hair stand at end, I shiver, it is not cold.

Has the ray penetrated me? left me alone. The last descended of my soul. The final level of emptiness, disgrace. 

I am alone, my ancestors left, the heat took its toll. I wish the fire engulfed me too.

I was left to endure, why was my soul bearing the pain? I was mangled.

Lived on to bear my race. Without a partner I was free.

I was me and my offspring was me.

But was he really me???

The earth took its toll and now I walk no more. My offspring was never me. 

But he was he...he walked and bore. His race has walked. His next has too.

They have brought the heat back too. 

The earth is dry, they don't see cracks though. They loved the moist earth too. 

i am, but half a bird

exhaustion takes over the mind, the dew falls onto my lexicon,
i feel "a free bird would have been strangled".
but i was still adrift, for i was never free.
a manja string holds onto my left foot...tightens at every attempt of freedom i make.

they make fun of me, my friends they do.
they say, "what bird is a bird if he cant fly. he has not known the joy".
oh yes i have, for "i was born free".

up up and away

is a name but a name? has it not the power to relentlessly show the way.

a name is not but a name...i have seen it sway

the rose is synonymous to itself, me to me.  

i define beauty with spirit, not in relation to ugly.

is my name just a name? did he send it to me?

is my name her's too? did i know we were to meet?

is her name my destiny? the cloud which roams the land?

is my name the lightening? the stroke that lights up the sky?

is her name not mine? is she not me?

my cheek dents; the left,  as i smile...

yet her's; the right knows glee!

my pursed lip looks distorted, 

i pursue 

i break open the barrier, and still wonder which way to move

my mind afloat on that grain of straw

the body unable to swim.

if she is not me

i am not her.

but still i see

a fish or a log, fly across the sky...