Indigo

Empty handed you go into spaces

searching for  souls like collisions

of grey shapes stumbling down

into staircases heading for exit.

 

Pass this way. They are the reflections

of glassy things you see staring back

at you- images of the sun battling

against the rogue winds. Then peace

 

will come knocking at your door

peddling its sepia stained photographs

and pushing nostalgic emotions

tethered to your distant past.

 

You will not allow it. You will pretend

as if you’ve come a long way from there

and someone has to understand

that they need to break down

 

the concept of the old life you are not

now. Though they won’t applaud changes

and alone you have to float like a river

where myriad of dreams are waiting

 

to become realities and rarities.

You have to be lighter than feather.

You should embrace memories

like the colors of the rainbow.

 

Unmindful and undeterred by fear

gripping like empty boxes and chains

to the blank spaces waiting to be filled

with courage to break through walls.

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An Afternoon With Monet

I met Monet

in his princely demeanor,

among the manicured lawn

and the secret garden

grows its verdant sprigs

and tresses, wild and free

in the prairie. Butterfly

flutters  paint palette

hovering bloom

after bloom. Solitude

 

drips in cadmium and ochre sun

sitting prominently,

potted and composed,

regal and undisturbed.

A gentle touch of the brush

that peaceful gaze,

horizonless strokes,

a sweet landscape.

 

I walk dreamily

drank with loveliness,

the wavy enthusiasm

of the blue sea.

Such is the welcoming

spirit of the flags

sashayed in the wind,

gliding together

with solitary birds

taking flight. Still

 

above the silver lake,

mirrored pools

of mountains in reverie.

I see reflections

of wooden boats

bobbing in a dance

with quiet clouds

rippling soft creating

small shivers

in its feathery face.

 

I remember the way

he  ushered me in

like an esteemed guest.

Taking my eyes to see

his picture books

of seeming easiness,

that immortal silence

showing how

to live as human,

not quite heavy

as his tormented soul.

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Tryst

The burden of thinking

whether to let it go or stay

is like a paperweight to a page.

 

And there are lines yet

unwritten here-

about the good things

that is not meant to last.

 

Regretting the end of

the fleeting blissful 

moments I had with

 

the wanderer of dreams.

 

Love’s free at last,

drifting away

lighter than feather

out of my grasp.

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Prairie Walk

As I would keep my path

clear

of grass growths.

I will find a way

leaving a trail.

 

And watch

the sky touching earth.

The feathered wings

of my angel

on the horizon.

 

I hope.

I would keep my footsteps

slow.

To observe

some familiar things.

 

I used to see

in my many quiet mornings

in the clearing.

 

I would follow

the sun beams.

Over the veil

of the fog.

 

As it lingers

above the field

of windflowers.

 

I will gather some fallen twigs.

Some fallen leaves.

In a jar.  Keeping moments

 

for potpourri. I am breathing in-

my home in the prairie.

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Moonscape

Mystery unravels tonight,

strange a landscape-

since you left. The room is

a parched valley of sheets

as I lay naked, bathe

in the lunar light.

 

Sans the gravity

of your satellite. It orbits

without the ocean’s rage

of high tides luminating

passion, as I grope

within the walled corners

of the stark midnight.

 

Sadness falls

like rockets ebbing

the bed. Its trajectory

creating pockmarks

and craters

of a dormant volcano.

I tip-toed.

 

To our dreams-

pinnacled fortresses pierced

with shrapnels of regret.

Ripping pillows

until blood-tinged feathers

hover the vacuum,

shatter into belt

of asteroids and clods

of moondust.

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Rendezvous

The tides finally embrace
Its long-time lover
Immaculately veiled
As it marches. White
Kisses soothing
The parched
And the laden.

The joy of the morning
And witnesses throng.
The sky’s tenderness,
spreading its golden feathers
Waving in jubilation.

With wind songs joined
In chorus by the seabirds
Of nature’s pure harmony.
With sun’s soft light
Sealed a promise
Of love’s eternity.
This secret place
of your shores. 

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Love Letters in the Sand

Love

before sunrise…

I saw you there among the horizon, peering through the breaking of the first light. That gentleness like the morning star had me longing for more.  More of you from the previous night. Let me embrace you like the feathery clouds in their afterglow. How serene am I in your bosom. Not a care in this world.

in the harborfront…

I am here standing at the boardwalk. Waiting for your ship to come. With the seagulls hovering above me and the seawaves frolicking along the breakwater. I have been here since your last voyage. Of chasing your dream and your freedom. But I have learned to let you go, and learned how to have hope. That you will come back to me. You will.  And I am waiting still.

across the desert…

Like how the wind shapes the dunes, so your tenderness. Lovely as your affection embrace me in the moonlight. A thousand and one nights of dream. We are sharing the stars and the Orion guides us to discover the many secrets of our togetherness. I will sit here with you and let the wind softly whisper my heart’s song.

driving down the mountain…

Lovers we are among the long grass. I am driving down this maze, of finding a way to your heart.  Keep you lingering in my mind and I never stop from wondering.  Upon these rocks, the many faces of love etched by time. And stood witness to my deep devotion to you. I shouted your name out in the cliffs, and it echoes and created a lover’s melody.

watching the sunset…

Why do I feel sad, whenever the sun bades goodbye?  Why do I feel sad when the sun finally vowed out among the ridge in the distance? Am I afraid that the memory of you will also leave me too soon? Even if I tried to stop the hands of time from turning, I am in my sweet surrender.  But I know, that someday, in another time, in another place, there will be you and me.  I know that even if it’s not me who is there with you, I will always wanted what makes you happy.  And it is enough that I have loved you the way I could.

Hames

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