her empty canvas
sunrays on the mountain’s
hidden side
Archives
Touch of Life
Cold cut through her skin,
seeped into her bones,
and clutched her shivering heart
as its icy grip spread
all over her body.
Stacked logs on the fireplace
could not warm her frosty breath
and heavy blankets failed
to comfort her chilled body.
Then it happened.
A tiny feeble hand
touched her heart
and blood gushed
into her body, filling
her with maternal warmth.
Her cold ears melted
in the soft babble
of cooing noises.
Her eyes trembled open
to soak in the warmth
of the tiny stranger and
she forced herself up
with outstretched arms.
Vague Memories
The old lady sits in the corner of a
park bench, overlooking
her nursing home.
She laughs if spoken to,
her toothless smile as
pure as that of a baby,
a testimony to her
lost memories.
She does not remember
her husband with whom
she shared 40 years of pain nor
does she remember her children
to whom she gave 30 years of
her health. She fails to recall
her father who was never there.
She has a fleeting memory
of a young woman who birthed her,
fed and sang to her,
cried and laughed with her
and has now become a picture
in her ancient house,
never growing old.
The old lady sobs softly
disturbed by vague thoughts of
her mother, alarming her caregivers.
Then she is back to senile
laughing self as those around her
sigh in relief.
Dark Lane
dark lane
a ghost in every breath
I take
Haiku Published in Spillwords
New Life
I tried to move my ravaged limbs
when I heard arms and legs
thrashing around
in the next ward.
I rasped, trying to breathe
as incoherent screams
from the neighborhood
gave voice to my pain.
Silence found me, at last,
and I was wrapped, but
my soul wandered,
half-desolate and half-ecstatic.
Then I opened
my new eyes
to see a vague form
as motherly cooing
caressed my ears.
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.
Path to Peace
The soldier saw
reddish-orange blood pouring out
of his enemy’s chest
as he thrust his glossy sword
deep inside.
Reddish-orange, the color of the setting sun,
he thought, pointless.
For the first time, he looked into his
enemy’s face. Was he 17 or 18?
His hands numbed and bones quivered as he
imagined his youngest brother
soaked in reddish-orange blood.
Another enemy lay beside the young one,
like crushed leaves,
his dark crimson blood reminiscent
of the sky before a storm.
What is the color of my blood?
he wondered. What did he fight for?
Expansion? Race? Religion?
A vulture sat in the stench of blood,
her mouth purplish-red,
jaw dripping,
observing and waiting.
Suddenly, scared of all the red around him,
the soldier dragged himself out
of the battlefield.
His helmet and sword slipped away
in search of a better warrior.
His legs strolled where his heart led and
he stopped in front of a monastery.
He knelt with force
as the monastery bells rang,
his knees brushing
the hard rock below.
He found that his blood
was reddish-yellow
like a scattered autumn leaf.
He lifted his eyes
as the sun broke through the trees
illuminating his path to peace.
Early Blossom
Prodded by tiny leaves
and seduced by eager bees
buds blossom well in advance
of spring, illuminating dull leaves
and somber trees
