She comes forth
like waves slipping over
the sand
again and again
delivered from darkness
coveting the light

And light is her signature.
A conundrum.
Light erasing light.
How can this be?

I will tell you.

Light is the companion
of the dark
trips joyfully in its shadows

And this dance
weaves a potent tale
of a two-faced goddess
one face peering intently into the dark
one lit by the morning sun

Yet darkness rules the day
hastens the twilight
gives measure to the
dimming
and finally
captures the last of the light
in a sea green bottle

We are drawn into that night
valiantly
or not
weeping for lost opportunities
or not
but at the end
waltzing into the unknown

Yet I do not suppose
darkness without light
according to my theology
a life that ends in simple extinction
cannot be
it is a null set

The fundamental equations
do not permit it
nor can my simple mind
fathom such depths

So in my dotage
I repair to wine and song
to ease the pain
of these uncertainties
and then to poetry
to catalog the human condition
and leave a trace
that yet might sparkle
in the instant of my demise

Winter anticipated the night and the stars
And I walk immensely immersed in them.
If warm lighting reminds me that I exist,
The sporadic lights on the cars think I still persist.

After all, only the stars trigger the act of dreaming,
In this journey traversed by nostalgia
Of all the contemplated heavens I've ever dared to wish.
The cold road is the only way.

The life, which I thought I knew, was made in fleeting hours,
Somehow I need to go where I really belong,
That place of latent presences so often felt,
Behind my mind.

Home is not about a place, it is a feeling,
That suppresses the urge to wander indefinitely.
Although knowing that reality it´s falling apart
I'll go home.

Golden wave:
Noise muted.
Hands harvest blows.

Cicadas sing
Cedars on the horizon:
Voiceless words.

Birds declaim
The feeling of wet
Earth in wet air.

Gray clouds ragged
By a thousand lightnings
Released in a look.

Running water:
I Run with the stream.
Which mouth awaits?

I found a stone among the rocks,

The stone was smooth, the rocks were rough

To the touch - a diamond it's not,

But worth more

for it will remind me

The vast volumes of memory's soul

The nativity of life in this skin

Beautiful people of the Sun

These last days of Brightness

The islands

The seabeeeze

Your moments of experiencing

Within

This bubble.

I am living as best I can

We are as we go/get

To become

"Get what you give" with what is given...

I found a stone among the rocks

We choose what hurtful words are hot

Pierce, stab, or cut

Bleeding out

The warmth of hearts

So what remains is

Rage

A sharp, sharp sword

What we say will only hurt

Each other

Silence keeps

This stone as keepsake

malleable touchable realities

In my pocket I named Lucky,

This breath of life

That we all must bury

One Day

And the story

of each a stone

A gem of thoughtful touch...

The lovely memory of

Eloquent words last spoken, not...

In vain.

I kept the stone smooth,

Among the rocks...

Sitting in the rain

Will you shower me

With love

With what words you find

And say ?

Love is a smooth stone

Among the rocks...

Reminds me of

Summers' days few

Love lost

Naught...

(With you)

Not many tensions,
nor any excitement
Life has ever been
a placidly flowing river!

Single and free!

Over differences,
never been any disputes
never had to consult,
nor seek consent

Single and free!

but doesn’t his house
with its cold, mildewed air
reflect his heart?
A house so full of things:
a hoard of well stacked books,
exquisitely carved Victorian furniture,
antique collection of curios,
ornate drapery

Yet so full of nothing!

The prim order of the house
never disturbed by naughty hands
nor shuffled by dusty feet
dirtying the Persian carpets
 or smudging the glistening floor

The well laid bed covers
never get creased
by the body’s desire
and Love’s tight embrace
and never, they bear
the fragrance of female scent!

Sometimes he would shake
from foot to crown
at a question hurled by
an unknown voice;

“Did you squander away your life?”

Then he recognizes….
he has been a lone traveler
ever walking through
a one way lane
that will wind off
with a few more steps!
If, by chance somewhere
a new track
branches out
he would no more be
a solitary *****!
There would be a companion
to hold hands!

Now it is too late!