I am detritus
left ashore by the ebbing
tide of my childhood

As I placed the kiln dried wood upon the altar , I thought of the One who I was to bury here. She who was so unlike the others.. A Woman of principal and morals , yet of the wilderness in her heart. She who fought and taught and learned the ways ...of the cultures of many and few. She who spoke the language of the people but not of the country, where government of the people and by the people did not exist..NOW I LAY HER DOWN TO SLEEP...I PRAY HER SOUL BUDHA TO KEEP....I TRUST HER BODY TO THE GREAT DEEP...WHOLE OF DHARMA...KHARMICLY KEPT FOR REASONS DEAR.

Some people are of God,
The thinning of their sole, torn shoes and worn clothes tell the tale only hearts of God hear. How blessed, for their treasure lies within, no fear of loss, no fear of pain because the glacier of faith they carry within is too magnificent to be beautified, yet too fearsome to let any fear linger around the edges.
Everyone of us is a keeper of that glacier. It's only, that the burns sometimes melt the forted edges of  iceberg of faith. But the keeper knows exactly when it happens, and when it can happen. And do we not sometimes melt and do we not always gather our blistering crystals, do we not bear the burns on our palms and yet we stand strongest after the burning waves of fate pass on? It melts, it smoothes, it shapes and after all the carvings in the keeper's castle, makes him even more majestic.

O' innocent dwellers of silent sorrows, once swanned with brightest  lights within your chests, now wander with fire of grief in your souls.
If only I could find you, I would cup your burns in my palms, engulfed in your flames of mourning till my existence would become ashes.
In black and grey, I might find my serenity.

I let myself drown asunder
Ignorance is bliss?
Or is it hum durgeon?
Do not utter the sage in you
Nor shun;
Let me lull
For today I unfurl my placid eyes
And let my drowsiness drift
Away from these snollygosters

Let these destined tides sweep through me
Whilst I gently rise,
From the ocean of rage, I rise
Drifting through notes of gentle souls
Amid these crimson glistening waves,
I bleed among roars
Whilst shores sway with sounds of tabret,
And skies dance in nacarat,
For never it welcomed; Redness,
Such unsullied, such stainless

Time hath gone, of Abel and Aron
Yet altercation wanders amongst age’s heron
Time hath gone, of forgiveness and mercy
For today, lines are re-drawn
The goodness is not your goodness
Nor dare ascertain, the mischief and nuisance
Tis but what divinely revealed
Is benevolence..
Today I unsheathed Tutankhamun’s dagger,
Today I stand against savageness
Today I paint my hands in color of mercilessness