The Wind Poems

I shall keep singing these melodies for you, my love
I know one day you will hear them across the world.
I have never met you but I will know when I see you
there will be a silent moon and the orchard in bloom
you will weep for me and my poems, blue tears of beauty!

Heart, an organ of fire? No, it is full of water
wonderfully cool waters of heaven and you will drink
deeply from the desire filled depths of your dreams
you will take me in your arms and I shall cease to exist.
Until then my love, wherever you are, please be well
for you possess my heart and to you I belong!
And I, in this cave of life, will paint fragrant flowers
upon the red earth that will be kissed by your feet
when you come running to me... because that is how it will be;
the universe shall fling you this way when you and I least expect it
and I promise you that I will wait.. I will wait right here for you!

When You Bent Down To Kiss Me Gently

I turned into a molten statue in the making
deep inside a volcano whose dreams of eruption
consumed the sky, turned the air haughty
as the world stood still and watched breathlessly.
It is a pity that one can not hang on to memories
in a pure, pristine state of mind in entirety.
The neural networks after all, are at their designated job.

Happiness

Ladies and gentlemen, I want to share with you a story about happiness. It is a story about finding happiness in the most unexpected moments in life. Come, join me as I walk you through one of those moments.

You are running up the hill with me. The morning is just beginning to dissolve into a blue sky. The trees, leaves and early fall flowers are gazing upon you serenely and smiling as they whisper to you gently the secrets the previous night brought them. We are gasping for breath as we make our way up the steep stretch at a slow pace. It forces us to gulp the dewy morning air. Have you ever noticed how this air has a certain taste to it? I like to think this is how rainy clouds would taste if I ever could eat them. Cool, misty and wonderfully light. The cool breeze stings a little but it feels refreshing as if that is exactly what our bones have been craving.

We are running uphill as the birds sing their morning songs. Some of them sing in sweet, short notes and others in a bit more rowdy tones. Either way, it is wonderful to listen to their ethereal compositions as they sing their morning prayers to existence itself. The little squirrel scurries across the path to bury some acorns; winter is only around the corner. The thicket of bay laurel trees emit a strong spicy scent and it clears every ounce of flesh. Our bodies feel anew, dreams clear and hopes seem too plausible. The world bows before us and we will it into a magical sphere where everything and everybody exist in peace.

As we made all the way up the hill, we are utterly happy. We sit down and gaze across the valley from under a low lying branch. In front of us lay the vast expanse of modern human markings. Silicon valley, what an amazing place! As we sit there, still in the moment, we notice the steam rising from behind us and we realize that it is our skin that is turning the cool morning dew into steam. It is like being in a cool sauna and our bodies are the furnaces. This is inexplicably delightful. Sun rays making slant shadows now feel a bit warm and we notice the dew reflecting a brilliant rainbow. Suddenly we are seven years old and a memory flashes in the space in front of us! We remember beding down on the moist ground and closely examining those tiny rainbows on a remote farm.. and the smell of red earth explodes all around us!

This is it.. this happiness! We realize what it means to be a human being. We are nothing but our feelings, memories and a collection of stories!

By The Creek I Sat Down And Wept

There it was, running under tall
shady coolness of giant redwoods
a rushing swirl of spring waters
I can't even name that emotion
except that I remember vividly
a certain honesty about the skin
raw, defenseless, delicate, strong
but why? what do I now grieve?
loss of depth, wondrous conviction?
death of a certain era? Continuity?
Funny, how time changes everything!

This Spring

The two Lilacs I planted with so much love
the cute Cala I rescued from under the shed
the Wisteria that swung gently with the wind
she laughed as I tried to train her into a tree
a piece of soul left behind with the Brugmansia
They all spoke to me in a beautiful language
only flowers could master and I sang with them
but this Spring, they bloom somewhere else
in a garden far away, hidden in foggy memories
I can't even conjure them up in my dreams.

While The World Was Still Asleep

I discovered that human hearts were fragile
Spring brought on the bright orange plumage
there was a lovely, earthy smell of wood fire
a warm home on a rainy morning; happiness!
Perhaps life could have slipped on by quietly
and I never would have known this world.

Watching The Rain Kiss A Coastal Town

As I sat there watching the northern rain gently spraying the beautifully tiled courtyard and the early spring blossoms, I remembered the days of my adolescence. I used to watch the monsoon rain douse the earth and soak the flowers with fresh torrents from heaven. Wind and rain, mischievous players; they stole my heart. They were my world and I adored them. I made love to the masculinity, the force, the strength and the constancy they represented. Nature was mine and I was his. The forces, they belonged to me and I owned them! Oh how foolish! How foolish was I? And then there was my passionate lover, the eternal one, the mighty one; the Ocean. Oh, how he sang to me when no one watched!! How he said the sweetest things; he inspired tender, forbidden dreams! I was scared. I was scared to realize the depths of my heart. Yet, I lost my heart easily and willingly. And do you know what the funny thing was? He never asked to be loved. It doesn't work that way, does it? He simply was and I loved that about him. Time and space; you see, they matter! How many days did I spend spinning up dreams that arrived with the rainy clouds! And the nights, Oh, the nights! I spent watching the moonlight kissing the coconut palms in a silent, sincere admiration! Oh, the nights! They were heavenly and I buried my dreams in the depths of the ocean.

When The Tulip Lost Its Petals

Amidst the flush of delicate pink hue
a little wren spoke in wistful tones
the sky was made of translucent luster
and the moon was but a crystal dream.
Somewhere in Arizona, an evening draws
to a graceful close over deep red earth.
Sometimes there are not any metaphors
there is only the truth; A silver sickle
glinting through the rhythms of heart.
An artist is forbidden from speaking
of their own internal anguish, unfair!

Rain Dance

The night, she arrived draped in lush darkness
that was so deeply elegant, it inspired mystery
as blue traces of twilight retreated with finesse
into the other world humming the morning prayer.
The world was enveloped in divine anticipation
as she gracefully stretched in a tranquil repose.
A beautifully delicate scent hung in the air
as she heaved sweet sighs of dreamy transpiration.
The rain, he arrived on the wings of the wind
as it roared through the hearts of mankind
the skies slit open, set the mountains on fire
the dark clouds melt into life with desire.
A light seeps through the conscience again
as night danced a wonderful waltz with rain.

I Suffer From The Moon

Who said that? I wish it were not so
I wish I could let go, let go of words
let go of emotions, let go of myself!
I wish my heart were beautiful and bright
wish it didn't turn into a moonflower by night.

I Know This Feeling

This morning I am with my old friend, the magnificent live oak. She stands over on the edge overlooking the rolling green hills and gorges. Lately, my spirit has been visiting her every night, so I had to see her in person. After all, when nature summons, I simply submit to her will. There are still little patches of snow left on the ground like fading memories of a bygone era. Tiny puffs of steam rise as the shadows of cold weather melt into brilliant sunlight. It is late winter but as I stand mesmerized by the beauty, it feels like a beautiful Spring day except for the little nip in the wind that is nibbling on my ears. The sky is a dazzling blue, a shade that is unique to the California sky. There are huge white clouds hanging low on the horizon. They look incredibly white and fluffy as if they had been cleansed by the recent rains. They make me sad!

There is absolute silence as I stand under the grand, graceful sentinel. A lone Osprey flies overhead, solemnly scanning the grounds for prey. Late morning sun shines on new lichen growing over the leafless branches of oaks. Its beautiful transparent green lends the scene a certain ethereal feel. The intensity of the color green overwhelms me for a second. Why? Should not I be glad? Rebirth, Regrowth and Renewal. The beautiful, perfect circle of seasons starting all over again. This is the time to celebrate and dance by the fire with pagan spirits, is it not? Then why this melancholy? A certain sorrow gets hold of my heart in its tight grip and refuses to let go. Come to think of it, has it always been there? Jung says the longing is natural and we are born with a wandering spirit. Perhaps, some of us are acutely aware of it. I think I know. I too must have arrived at the beginning, completing the circle of my own spiritual journey.

There was a time when I would stand awe-stuck by nature and worship its glorious beauty in a solitary moment. I was fully aware of the loneliness, yet I was utterly happy, lost in a deep soul. A soul that was not mine, but the grand, supreme universal soul. I was blissful to be just a tiny, insignificant fraction of it. Then one day I have separated myself from the source. A moment of poetic frenzy and I was lost. Yet, it was magical, unreal and I would not trade it for anything else in the world. They say when you love, you give away a piece of your heart. Fatalism? Am I to believe? Now I owe the emotions, the open, wounded heart; everything to that moment. Powerful words! They drive daggers. Yet, I am still here, intact. I came to know love and compassion. I am at the very beginning, once again one with the longing. This time I have a bruised heart filled with immense kindness. I look back and I realize there are in fact seven billion souls. What makes my struggle unique? My pain stronger? We are all in it together. A universal struggle for harmony. I love them all; my beautiful, gentle and vulnerable earthlings and I am ready to share their dreams.

Fantastic

The way you said that word, it was special
it resounded with feeling, a certain belief.
I imagined it materialize when you said it
imperceptible yet real; magical and powerful
like a mirage you captured in a glass bottle
on a summer afternoon by the Atlantic shore.
I imagined you; a tall, beautiful, lanky boy
you sat in the hot sand under a big blue sky
wishing with the dreamy conviction of a child
before you threw it into the great blue ocean.
Many years later, it would appear before me
every time you said the word, 'Fantastic'.

The Couple In The Bookstore

They were standing by the Fiction racks
when I walked in to look for my Stendhal
and happened upon a brief beautiful moment
He was holding her hands very delicately
it was clear, he cares about her deeply
often you can tell by a slight gesture.
Her crinkled eyes had a look of pain
there was hesitation, shifting, uncertainty
she wanted to say something but failed
he wrapped his arms gently around her
and asked pleadingly, "Honey! What is wrong?".
Compassion in companionship! How beautiful!
I hope these two people are in love
I need that .. I need them to be in love.
Happy Valentine's Day!

Integral

No, not exactly a strong soul as you say
there lie within me too many deep wells
they keep me rooted to a deeper existence.
Some nights are just beyond comprehension
there is a deep fear, it makes the stars weep
their tears, they smolder into deep red embers
and a brazen fire shines through the eyes
humanity is resilient; the soul is the truth.
Yes, I am integral, I obey the universe
by principle, we define our own destiny
we arrive by our own individual journey!

Blue Passion

I saw it in my dream one winter night
on a treacherous, mercurial dune.
The landscape glistened in the moonlight
I knew I was in a world that was not mine.
I saw the shadows play and desires run astray
leaving my soul to the mercy of mute gods.
Suddenly I plunged into a deep silence
I saw a moon ray slash open the universe
and there it was! A gift from the hidden worlds
The wisdom of ages and poetry within the soul.
It shattered into stars in the night sky
in the most beautiful shade of a delicate blue!