Wild Winds

I remember exactly the moment when my heart cracked open
it was a beautiful rainy day on a lush grassy hillside in California
I was walking into the kitchen and saw you through the window
you were leaning against a post on the porch and watching the rain
your hands tucked in your pockets, you were lost in a reverie.
A solid, beautiful silhouette against the gentle gray sky
I felt beams of radiant light emanating from my heart.

It was a warm day amidst the delicate blues of the Caribbean
I was falling .. falling into gentle waves from your strong arms
looking up at your face, I experienced the deep beauty of love
the entire universe condensed into that one ephemeral moment
my heart shattered into an immense, infinite nothingness
and in its place a delicate pink cherry blossom bloomed
I left the confinement of the vast dark mystery for light.

I have a sense that this is not the first time I found you
we have played this game before. It was a different time.
We were in the land of dusty mountains and pomegranates.
Since then I spent many a lifetime silently loving you
It is no surprise my heart knows you so intimately
once again I offer you this fragile flower of imperfect beauty.
My love, hold it gently; for this world runs on wild winds!

Lately

Was it ten minutes, two hours or a lifetime? How long has it been?
Time has lost its meaning lately. A lack of sense or direction
Minutes and hours languidly stretch and disappear into eons
I plunge with them across the universe. My heart is a Dali clock.
At the center of the galaxy, I witness the birth of a new star!
None of this seems to matter. I search for something else

Something mysterious. It is elemental. Perhaps primordial.

Or is it ephemeral or eternal? Again, adjectives with no meaning.

I have been here before but can’t seem to remember much
I seem to only remember a dichotomy that existed in time
A time inhabited by you and the one without your radiant self
Melancholy, my friend doesn’t come around too much anymore
even when blue gray clouds hover heavily over the horizon
and incessant rain has a tight grip on everything around here.

There was a time when rainbows burned into a purple haze
now they explode all over my body and transform into dreams
Love, like beauty can be immensely vast, magical and powerful
and in moments of extreme joy, it folds back into a white silence

For there are no words that can express the purity of feeling

I reach across the fabric for you and feel the hand on my breast

You, me, this window, the trees and the city. Everything is a dream.

Boundaries melt in pure light and for a second I am that pure light!

Kiss of Fire

How long have I been waiting for you?
Feels almost like a lifetime. Perhaps it was.
So many moonlit nights and desperate dreams
and all those intricate songs my heart made up!
I have lost some of them many years ago.

Life, the ever effervescent, loving mother
she took me through desert winds, spring flowers
and winter blues. Through it all, I always saw you.
So much pain, so many scars and so much beauty
but I am here now... in this moment, in your arms
on a dimly lit staircase in San Francisco
and the world is starting to make sense to me.

Two hearts entangled in a sensual dance
to the beautiful rhythm of twinkling constellations.
A fire burns brightly and radiates across the universe
and I close my eyes and let myself fly far away.
Because I know one thing. I shall always find you
by the warm glow of your hot heart! 

The One Who Is Chasing His Own Shadow

Be careful what you wish for, she said with a smile
her eyes shone with delight, wisdom and love.
I found her in the usual place; under the big oak tree
overlooking the green valley, silently shimmering
in the golden light breaking over the horizon.

I have always chased shadows and she knew it
and she even knew what I would say if she argued.
Mystery and mystic have always ruled my kind
and meaningful silences move my inner core.
There is immense beauty, pleasure, pain and loss
within these shadows and they know how to play
the strings of a heart so fragile and vulnerable
but a heart with scars is so much more beautiful
and I want to die with a heart full of scars. 

Mango Tree

It was midnight when he woke up from a dream.
In the stillness of night he heard his own heart beat
full of longing, pain and a desire he could not name.
He sat up and gazed out of his bedroom window.
The eaves of the house were dripping moonlight
the world outside appeared in a delicate stupor
and shadows floated gently in and out of his thoughts.

There was a time when her laughter fluttered lightly
and filled the house with delightful moonbeams
that broke into pearls and they danced everywhere.
Soft, cool slivery smoothness of her mouth..
he loved her smile but quite never possessed it.
Many things made her smile and he always stared
at the way her lips curled into a beautiful moonflower.

His right hand felt the emptiness close to his heart
he picked up the conch shell on the night table
and put it to his ear. The ocean spoke to him.
He walked out into the garden and picked up a shovel
and started digging a hole right outside his window.
He was going to plant a mango tree in his yard
beneath the shadows of the watchful volcano.

For Words

I am mostly sad for the words
not because they are unspoken
but because they are; so freely
uttered with beautiful abandon.

Spoken from the realm of thought
they morph into weightless forms.
Vacuous, they float like feathers
casting silvery, slippery shadows
like ghosts in abandoned rooms.

But unspoken words? They are different.
They are made of earth and water
you hear them only if you are careful
like the faint chimes in a gentle wind.
Spoken from the depths of the soul

they are made of melancholic beauty

you feel them only if you are poetic.

The Man Wearing A Red Shirt

I see him silhouetted against the cool gray dawn of the city
on a street full of rich houses protected by huge iron gates
forbidding and frightening; the wealth must feel alien to him.
He is leaning against a tree with his shoulders drawn back
his red cotton shirt has the texture like that of artificial flowers
his eyes are distant and confused like he woke up in a dream.

For a second, I imagine him in his homeland on a morning like this
he is sitting outside, under the flowering almond tree in his courtyard
his children are running around and one of them shrieks in delight
while his wife is hunched over the wood stove and the dog by her side.
The smoke obscures the scene for me, protecting their private moment.

I feel my heart ache violently like I am experiencing a quake.
Is this compassion? Empathy? I feel the beauty of my heart.
I look at him and I decide to carry that face in my memory
I pray for him and his unborn great grand children
and I offer solemn, beautiful tears to mother earth.
May he find peace, beauty and safety for him and his family!