Each season comes and goes, the beauty of it all

The storms of life, make me sit upright

The tears that are shed and they hold me tight

Takes my heart, makes me fight

As the moon rises, and wind blows long

I am tucked in bed, and I know just know...

Debbie


There is a reason for every season

nothing everlasting, yet we cling

every storm, followed by a calm

the seed that breaks, only sprouts

the heart that breaks, germinates

But for you and me... No season, no reason...

Rupal

The path I take, will always be the wind mills

Of time, but my heart can only take so much

As each time I am shoved from these trying times

I beg I cry, to let me find, let me die

but then I see words in the sky that show me

how my friends, how the world can be

and then there was you, a dear sweet friend

from across the world but so near to me ...

Debbie

Familiar paths I will not choose

neither follow nor will lead

People come, people go...

Maybe reason, maybe season

It's not per chance you and I met my friend

HE.. who knows what I need, before I know

Sent me a friend, so near, so dear

And Just a click away...

Rupal

By: Debbie Brooks and Rupal

Don't you agree, everyone talks too much?
Can't we listen, not talk, just hush.
I think you'd be surprised at all the things you'd hear.
Maybe the silence would draw more people near.
No more hurt feelings, or losing those you love.
Just hush and listen for guidance from above.
You're so busy talking, you can't hear what He says.
Although He's the only reason you're being blessed.
So here is some advice to those who won't shut up.
When you listen, you will learn.
And that should be enough.

His old age fell on years of abundant harvest.
There were no earthquakes, droughts or floods.
It seemed as if the turning of the seasons gained in constancy,
Stars waxed strong and the sun increased its might.
Even in remote provinces no war was waged.
Generations grew up friendly to fellow men.
The rational nature of man was not a subject of derision.


It was bitter to say farewell to the earth so renewed.
He was envious and ashamed of his doubt,
Content that his lacerated memory would vanish with him.


Two days after his death a hurricane razed the coasts.
Smoke came from volcanoes inactive for a hundred years.
Lava sprawled over forests, vineyards, and towns.
And war began with a battle on the islands.

I haven't written poetry
since the night with all the blood
because I'm afraid that the demons
might crawl out from underneath my fingernails
and singe the edges of my paper with their hellfire
and I am trying to get better,
I swear I am,
it's just hard when
I can't tell my own voice apart from
the monsters in my head.