No Change of Heart

For real,
I'm the seeker of Truth ,
I yearn for the verity fragrance
of an upcoming winter,
to make up for lost Beauty;
A call of regained  Faith  in Youth
crosses my mind on its way to Hope.
For Good,
 I am to be a stronger believer
in any divine justice whose Pity,
only expects heaven, not hell,
to redeem the 7 deadly sins
of the mortals.


A Paradise Tale

                                        Inspired by and dedicated to Frank

Under the old tree of knowledge,
-                   - in the heart of night -
Adam and Eve shared their pure dreams,
Holding each other as they fell asleep,
The cold, humid scales of the serpent
and its corrupting, poisonous whispers
-                   - out of their mind.
A sudden echo broke into the silence
Chaining their sin in the middle of things
A fatal ignorance had  sealed  their  fortune
-                  - changing  everything .
The appointed angels remained silent
Knowin’ their hearts , they could only expect,
With the divine muses sent out of Eden
Falling into the vicious, evil temptation
-                  - would be their fate.
The sight of the new garden, of permitted fruit,
Left them both feeling lost and abandoned-
The holy light turned off, casting their shadows
         -  in a void of darkness.
Had they been aware of the cruel testing
And shared their premonitions of the fall
Their undeserved, merciless punishment
-                -  would still be ignored.


Let the bygones…

Water under the bridge getting frozen,
A new season inoculates my veins-
No more cold shoulders to get
With selfishness put on hold,
Cruelty remains homeless.

“Why does an infant die young
or end up a cursed orphan, 
do you happen to know?"
“Being  on the run gathers no moss
to harbor the sorrows, I heard.”

Some take time to slowly predict
The right  twists of  fate to reveal
Just for fun, when  their vaulted memoirs,
traded  in real flesh and blood,
remain  second  to none.

Enough  has  been  said  and done
between us, under the same sun,
to set aside for all our rainy days
Though  even more storms will be born
under tomorrow’s clouds.

No need to double check on the weather
Just drop your grudge for a change
Worry about nothing  that can’t be undone  -
You’ve lost your heart a few times
And it came back.


Transition Festivity

We live till we die
We live, we think about living, then die
And grapes are always younger than wine;
So, let the champagne flow like a river
Let’s have a spirited celebration,
Right here, right now- a feast for everyone!
What a lovely gathering in its golden age,
On a larger-than-life stage,
With round-the-clock reception,
Filled glasses and bubbly toasts everywhere,
To enable the host to gain our trust
And  share  the  bitter-sweet berries,
black chocolate cake and walnut cookies
with the upper crust.
Raise your glasses, simultaneously,
Let’s hear the cheerful clinking
That would remind us of the living.


Silent Running

When things get too loud to be heard,
Chase them around into the sand
of an hourglass
then lock them inside 
and throw away your fears.

An outbreak of life-affirming thrills
Will take it from there
Turning the forgiven autobiographies,
Slowly carved in the white marble,
into third person narratives.
To everyone’s disbelief, some blind fingers 
are no longer desperate for a familiar touch 
to find their sleep.

No more misjudgments for a manuscript,
the submissive dots have become letters
And the mild temples above,
A worshipping  force of nature,
Capitalized  thoughts running  deep.


Faith Repaid

A new tomorrow has come
Looking rosy just like you painted it for me.
A little girl inside
reaches out for a morning smile-
a must-do ritual
to call for a deserved, well-timed sunrise.
Every heartbeat is drumming for joy,
an ultimate confirmation of God’s ways
of answering a prayer before it is said.
I keep seeing heart-shaped clouds in the sky
Your name is my shelter, my cradle of hope,
The only reason 
to prefer beginnings to happy-endings 
and still be in love.



Like a pilgrim, I always save the last loaf
And anticipate
Placing it silently on the table
next to  the salt and pepper holders
When I reach home and there,
unwilling  to disturb 
the nocturnal sleep of a native land
I put off my sleepwalking episodes
And  tip-toe my way back to bed.

To my mind,  this is salubrious living
Preferable to any tumult spectacle
Lacking  any  real depth.
Under the stellar ferment,
There are plenty of heights  to look up to
And  embrace  the order of things.
For a soul being at peace with the world
will resemble
A peregrine falcon spreading his wings.

No Day like Today

Some ghosts come back to hug us,
Some affective disorders
Finally go away.
Their untold secret is they get bored
and maybe a little upset
after messing around
all this time inside my head. 
Here we go again
No worrying  perspective,
No negative thinking,
No tomorrow to procrastinate
Or yesterday to call August;
I’m a soap bubble flying around
My changing  colours - ready to collide
With a sunlit surface.
Yes, you won’t catch me
Unless  you go back on your promise.