Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke
Swirling boundless
To and fro

Out of the fire
A non-corporeal host

Stinging eyes
Burning nose
Cough me out
Or start to choke

Surely
I am but a wisp of smoke

Another cloud
Another soul
Into thin air
Watch me flow

Out the window
And down the road!

Surely I was
A wisp of smoke...

The wind, a sly lover, lifting my silken dress,
I sway with abandon, revealing soft tenderness,
Wind, with lips so eager, tracing each subtle finesse,
With each rising current, my heated blush will express,
I surrender to breezes that stir my wild restlessness.

My love for everything is so dense I can barely breathe.
I don't know where I end and love begins.

Struck with awe for the infinite, thank you for standing at the edge of the void with me. Knowing that every sacred act requires a witness, I'm blindly stepping forward.

Falling I don’t know if I’m feeling what I feel…
or what you have had to carry so long from the weight of knowing your own heart.

Stay where you are and I will witness what you had to carry alone in secret knowing…

or jump with me and see what happens.

Perhaps another chapter completed,
Abruptly you must say, you didn't see it coming.
It was fun and folly with a hint of healing.
At first the story was not appealing,
Then finding oneself reading
in elaborate details, basking in such entertainment,
Occasionally arguing on its illogical stance.
Out of the blue, the story threw in scientific facts and unsolicited advice,
Followed by apologies for the untamed lingua.
Somehow the familiarity lingered,
Seeking tranquility in every chapter.

The fall that leaves the traces of cold
Footsteps with chilling fog
bruised hand with warmth of blaze
That gives the hope in unspoken eyes
The hand which was frozen with twist of fate,
softens with the half century wood
An ember that tells the story of survival

the rains have ended
night whispers its cooler words
you are my blanket

Sweet face
Mellow voice
Irresistible person
Lovely human
Everything I need

There’s no point in searching for it,
we’ll find it one day, understood.
We must understand ourselves,
so that we can be who we are.

East...and west, are we?
north, and south?.....maybe...
we were nurtured with love,
our eyes and our minds opened
to different isms that helped shape our
values...we were brought up, bearing our
folks' customs, traditions. principles...
we have different faiths...some practice...some
don't...some, don't even subscribe, yet, survive.

we have dry and monsoon season...in
other parts, pleasant weather, cold winds,
and in some parts, snow.....turning to ice

we are  a mix of white skin, seeking for a tan,
and brown-skin, hiding from the sun;
one's night, is the other's day,
there are surfers among us, playing with the waves,
there at the cusp...gambling...daring fate...
there are those who hide from silent freezing winters,
finding warmth and comfort in long hot summers...

countless points of comparison,  
yet, we've something beautiful in common,
a connection of feelings, of words...our poetry,
flowing like blood, through our veins...endlessly
feeding, fueling our hearts and minds, with classy,
themes....sometimes bold, mushy, or....sassy...
no set skeds...we do it even through adversity...

we write......

we tell about our escape from life's banalities,
mindscapes, landscapes immersed in frivolities

yet, we await the marvels of each  morning we wake,
remembering gratitude, in every breath we take...

years have passed us by,
still, plays this soft music that mollifies
and inspires......heard only by you and i
prodding us, through hours, of day or night

while you exist in your own part of the world,
as i, in my hot, humid cosmos, long for cold.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    May, 19, 2019