hopeful thoughts

Artwork from Google

hopeful thoughts …

deafening

howls of hate

may

yet

be

quelled

simply

by

knowing

believing

fairly

justly

collectively

that

you

me

him

she

her

they

us

yes us

may still

share

a

kinder

gentler fate

but only if

i

you

her

they

him

us

yes us

begin

anew

and then

when peace is what we all shall wage

we may then

and only then

begin to scribble afresh

new

dreams

aspirations

hopes

collectively

on

a

new

fresh page …

Artwork from Google

on the passing of the years

Artwork from Google

on the passing of the years …

age creeps up on one, and with the lightness of a dandelion seed, it floats seductively before our eyes, and then flutters away. 

the falls and the follies of youth seem bygones away, mere filaments of strings of memories encapsulated in the recesses of the mind. 

the passing of the years is often linked to the attaining of ‘wisdom’, and though I certainly am not wise, but these ensuing years have I hope, at the very least, imbibed in me a little sense of understanding. 

and sometimes I think that may just be enough. 

there is far too much pain and sorrow and war and deprivation in this mad crazy world, and as the years pile on it is my hope, no my fervent wish, to understand more. 

and by understanding a little more, I hope to be more human, less plastic, more caring, less callous. 

it is not an easy path to tread, but thanks to the love of all those close to me, both past and present, I have embarked upon the journey.

there are many steps yet to be tread, one hopes. 

may they be walked with a sense of humanity. 

that much is enough …

Artwork from Google

Mora Piya Ghar Aaya*

Artwork from Google

​

“Mora Piya Ghar Aaya”*

(My Beloved Has Returned Home)

Autumn:

the leaves fell, as you left, a bleak chill wafting across the barren space within my being,

you left, taking your smile and mine,

my smile rests with you still, leaving a void impossible to fill.

Winter:

pangs of longing consumed me, my only company in the frigid nights,

my tears remain frozen, within,

unable to fall from my broken eyes, as I searched the depths of the cold, harsh skies.

Spring:

birds returned home, though you did not, and I felt soothing rebirth all around,

memories of you began blazing, their embers stoked,

and at last the tears rolled, like ink on this blank notebook, my whole being pined for you, my very self in anguish silently shook.

Summer:

alive I felt again, the promise of the coming cooling rain, easing the heat of desire,

yet the furnace slowly raged inside, your absence tearing into me, shattering my nights, my longing for you soaring unfettered across the skies,

dancing on clouds, blissfully free,

Monsoons:

heaven itself opened, the deluge an unending dream,

rain falling all around, mingling with my flowing tears,

and then I saw you, you returned, and I embraced you, never wishing to let you go,

and though I may wear the mask of the clown,

if you were to leave again,

my very soul, would quietly slip away, and in the monsoon rains, I would gratefully drown

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* title borrowed from an old Indian folk song

barefoot in the rain

from Google

barefoot in the rain

tiny splashes,

toes teasing toes,

as the rain lashes,

dancing under moonbeams,

hazy lazy clouds dripping nectar,

cheek to dripping cheek,

your hand in mine,

your eyes sparkling with a fire divine.

dancing barefoot in the rain,

with you, my whole, my own, my life,

dancing with you,

barefoot in the rain,

toes tickle toes,

far from this life’s pain, away from the strife,

with you, within you,

I have found renewed life 

Artwork from Google

​a silly schmaltzy scribble

Artwork from Google

​

a silly schmaltzy scribble … 

you may fly away ever so far, leaving me wounded, tending to yet another fresh scar.

you may look past me, choosing not to see me at all, as I pick myself up from still another fall.

you may not know me, our gaze destined never to meet, 

while I dream of our paths crossing, the lucky happenstance of seeing you walking down your street.

you may not know the feelings that I hide,

tucked away neatly on the inside,

but still I will be as faithful as the coming in of the tide …

Artwork from Google

he …

he …

he continues walking down the empty boulevards, the soft petals beneath his shambling feet, his head down, feeling the earth crunch and the flotsam scatter, as he reminisces of yesterdays bygone, and tomorrows yet to dawn. he speaks to no one, just the obligatory shake of the head in acknowledgement at another soul traipsing down the same cobblewebbed slippery slope, braving the sudden winds that lash his frigid hands as he turns up the collar of his coat, feeling feeling swell and peak, the music of the banal soothing him somewhat. he lets his mind wander too, mourning crushed flowers strewn like blood on the soft earth, and fears the onset of the years, slower and dimmer, yet racing past at breakneck speed, heading for a heavens knows where, but just content, content to be in motion, walking, walking down the rusty dusty alleyways of this life …

a taste of you

Artwork from Google

a taste of you …

tasting you, breathing you,

feeling you,

                    exquisite bittersweet touches,

undulating, swaying in the johannesburg breeze,

                       

  just knowing you,

       infuses emotions of mirth,

of simple joys,

        of peace …

Artwork from Google