Archives

The Spring Music

The earth gently opens

to show frail patterns

of leaves, green and purple, basking in their poise

before pulling back to

guard their sibling blooms.

Quails chatter in a calm

extinct birds’ language,

showing off their tanned wings to partners, hushing

at the delicious spray

of dew on their beaks.

Huge mountains and plains still

while oceans whisper,

as skies pour down, drenching tiny and huge lives

soaking the brownish sand

in colors of joy

The poem above has been written for Carrot Ranch Double Ennead Monthly Poetry Challenge. Thank you, Colleen, for the opportunity.

Following the West Wind

The west wind howls in the woods, uprooting plants, tossing their nuts, and bending powerful trees. The branches nod to the teasing wind as nesting songbirds hold tight until the wind sails away.

The west wind now pauses by the pink splendor of the woods. Mesmerized, it calms into a breeze and crawls over each stem.

As the pink flowers dance in delight, the breeze finds its way to a corner, resting on an undiscovered flower. The breeze melts into the flower, enchanted by its texture and fragrance.

west wind halts

to trace each pattern

in a pecan leaf

A Promise of Life

I walk close to the tangled barks

and buzzing noise

where creatures of the dark

watch me unseen.

Fear battling with persistence,

I tread into the darkness.

Branches block my vision

and stones prick my feet.

I stumble,

but walk on

when a gust of breeze

sweeps over me.

I look up to see a paradise

of flowers. The buzzing noises are

that of Red Admirals,

hovering around undiscovered flowers.

The tangled barks spread to huge branches

that offer shelter to millions

of tiny creatures, crawling and flying.

Did I fear the darkness?

Doesn’t the dark ultimately

make way for light?

The light of never-ending life,

promise and vigor.

White Leaves

All the trees in my country

have white barks that

give birth to white leaves.

Some stems have no offspring

while others have mutilated leaves. 

I have a disfigured face and my

grown friend needs help dressing up. 

All of us fear toy guns, water guns 

and any signs of violence.

Yet I have seen videos

of your world 1000 years ago.

A beautiful world with green leaves

and healthy children.

I shudder at the anger and violence in your eyes. 

We are now reaping your thirst for blood 

and your experiment with nuclear war.

See for yourself. 

All the trees in my country

have lifeless white barks

that mourn

the loss of humanity.

Spark of Fire

I am the spark of fire

born from animosity.

I do not rue my birth

but transform into

a spark of hope

as I implant myself in

every child

who crosses my path.

I will burn in them

as a light of hope

and humanity,

till they pass me to others.

I will stay alight

with faith and joy

till the end of the world.

Hope

dahlia-3678831_960_720

I stare at the ceiling, wondering if it is 1 or 2 PM. At the corner of the table is a kerosene lantern, not used for many years. I light it and walk into the night. The creatures of the night hush at the sound of footsteps, but the persistent buzz of a bee holds my attention. The bee hovers around a wild plant; an orange bud. The bud sleeps on, unheeding the bee’s buzz and noise. But, the bee does not give up. It sits on the leaves and bends towards the bud, shaking it. Suddenly, there is a loud hiss. It is not the bee, but the flower. It opens up to reveal a yellow inner part, further illuminated by the lamp. The bee moves home and rekindles in my heart the hope to live.

Dawn
orange bud blooms
baby’s first word