dark lane
a ghost in every breath
I take
Dark Lane
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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
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.
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
Limerick – Lockdown Woes
His reflection gulped at him
not long ago, he was quite slim.
The gym near his condo,
spring outside his window,
his keyboard soaked his frustrated whim.
Unlikely Friends
drenched dove
hides inside thick branches
to find a friend in the eagle
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.
