Perhaps on an idle afternoon
when sadness lies heavy on chest
your eyes shimmering like crystal moon
upon my poems would come to rest.

Words of love and touching her shore
yearnings sharp as edge of knife
wrote my mind of twenty four
gathering all from a half seen life.

You flip the pages as years roll down
reach to where past high tides sailed
the ink flows soft as calm of dawn
in peace of void when heights are scaled.

You close the book breathing a sigh
your eyes are wet of misty dew
by then fallen twilight asks you why
the poet on the cover looks like you.

Why do I sit and ponder and analyze every aspect of this life?
Spending hours and days contemplating my place in this world
Day dreaming of how I wish my life had turned out
Imagining the day that fate will finally show me favor

Why are some people easy to leave behind but others break you to your soul?
Why do we want the ones who don't want us?
Why is that I can't bare the thought of not having you in my life?
Why can't I see the reality in front of my face?
Is it just a chemical reaction that causes the bond I feel?
Is it all in my head?
I feel as though I am losing what is left of my sanity
I would live through a thousand heart breaks to be in your presence
Would endure any pain that may come from this decision
With ease and pleasure
why?

Why do I seem to seek those who take my love for granted?
Those who use and abuse me
Why do I always look for the other shoe to drop?
Why can't I at least have contentment?
Why is happiness so brief and fleeting for me?
Why do I see only certain people through rose colored glasses?
Why am I cursed with an imagination so vivid that fantasy and reality begin to blur?

What she whispers to the deity

in her daily evening prayer
from her lips' quiver
I try to hear

I try to understand
what she asks of her god
with folded hands

is it her own welfare she prays
begs from the deity
well being of her family
wealth and safety

or her prayer is not that small
she asks god for the good of all

I am not sure
but deep within feel
her prayer is pure

through years of asking
but never receiving
she has quit
praying for any specific thing

she prays as a need
as an inseparable thought
whether god heeds her
or not.

The beauty of goodness
                     Is in selfless Virtues