Tag Archive | Poetry

Touch of Life

Jan12

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

Dec20

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.

Following the West Wind

Dec4

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

New Life

Nov19

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.

Spark of Fire

Sep14

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.