We tread lands of promise and barren miscalculation ,
relishing the storied trees from whence we first appeared
Fostering hope 'neath the blue soul windows , tokens of
wind dancers that survey green meadows , payments rendered in song for sunny day memories and nervous nighttime sullen misery                                                          Purveyors of grandiose technicolor morns , rewriting beauties definition every second , challenging the impossible with bold determination , forever seeking answers from a storybook afternoon panorama* ....

From nowhere

Like motes in the air

Notes begin to appear

Ethereal to the eye

Soft as the sigh

Of breath upon your face

Gliding over your senses

You feel their touch

Origin unknown.

Whether a force of rage

Or state of grace

For a time

You each occupy the same space.

Words can touch your heart

Or destroy your soul,

Obliterate your being

Or leave you whole,

And though the author

You cannot see

You get to know them intimately.

Though the origin of the author

Is often unknown

When words are shared

Your not alone.

for years i have lived
within this
bubble
a bubble that i made
to keep me safe
keeps me safe
within
keeps me away
clear
transparent
like elasticated glass
i see the world
from within
and have felt safe
from within
it keeps the world
at arms length
safe and away
keeps me away
within
keeps me safe
but
i can't touch the outside
from within
my fingertips press the clear
press the transparent
press the glass
and it gives
under my touch
as my fingers enter
the world beyond
i have need
i have longing
i want
i want to go
beyond
to feel the outside
to touch
and breathe
and live
beyond
the within
to escape the
bubble
that i had created
so that i was free

...
While
Warm water as the geyser
Gives the skin a new taste
After the sudden rain
The sun peeped behind the clouds
As if a fire peaks in the red flamboyant forest
Then purple flowers of Jarul's
Silently washing the suffering of long pain
Worship to God with drunk
Late afternoon in front of the house of crow
Cuckoo calls repeatedly,
Wings fluttering,
Not unnecessarily
She searches her left offspring
Alongside a small river (Kumar) flows
Small dazzling waves,
With a Cold gentle breeze
Flows over my sweet sweat
Ah! Another form of Heaven
Seduced far away from the darkness
Furious within a dream,
I bathe
...
@Musfiq us shaleheen