So many hopes have
been laid to rest,
snuggling tight and cozy
where all dead dreams lie.

There wasn't even time to say goodbye.
Oh, my fighting spirit is now a sleeping spirit.
It doesn't wake to sweet smell of fancy,
to the buzzing of bees and all manner of honeys,
no.
It lies dead in the gutter,
or should I say,
asleep.

The only hope I have left, is to lie of the pain.
To wish away the wash of bitter taste
and lie away the bodies of thought and waste.
I have died too many times to count the carnage
and how I massacred myself,
past, present and future,
there is no more potential,
there is now just a rein
lying slack for lack of force,
the beast was too burdened...

There is a constant whispering.
Voices from a place I dare not venture.
My hands are bent and scarred, like twisted puppets.
How can I mend these broken dreams?
I can no longer traverse the seams,
now torn
beyond are the hopes I knew.
How do I mend the horses?

Is it not the hand of God that restores life
to dead things?
Why do his hands look like mine?
If I do not believe in myself,
how might I believe in him?

I stand around in my day by day
and a  friend came just to say,

It's all wrong you got it wrong
I tell you this because our friendship is true

I go to and fro in my day by day
That same friend came up to say

You have it all wrong and I feel I can tell you
as our friendship is true.

Fresh moment to alive to die brings out the life
I try to live, sewing moments all in a row.

My so called friend states yet again I do it but do it wrong yet.
Now is it for me to drag  my friend into the realm of possibility
Or is his doing it wrong comments come only out of his fear.

Poetry and music 
are the flowers of our Father
Mother’s eyes are serpents
and she binds them to her daughters
keepers of the dawn
dream their longing into song
only freedom and vision
can balance the Giver's mission
while wise women give birth to warriors
sages offer seeds and silence to the Sun
burning candles and incense
water bowls are filled with floating petals
and copious copal censors 
recklessly shape-shift
into sparkling moonstone necklaces

Finally . . .
I sit in the midst of silence . . .
and silence resides in the midst
of me

I strain to hear
the nothingness . . .
and it comes over
so clear

All promises lay asleep
in their coffins . . .
covered in stone and time

This empty blackness
comes complete . . . stealing whatever sanity there is left in me

Here in my equilibrium there
are no days or weeks . . . just the certainly that no one speaks

Come hungry darkness . . .never to be satisfied . . . for you swallow eternity
still there is nothing inside

The indifference of silence
bends over to kiss me . . .
cold blackened lips whispering
"There is no certainty."

Now my heart sings- Happy New Year
to seen and unseen- dear or not so dear.
At least one day in a year with the rise of sun
I send you warmth of my heart- enjoy life, have fun.
For life is a drop of water on lotus leaf
we balance life and toss with each one's belief.
The warmth of heart- like oil on sea
may make us turbulence free.

2nd Jan. 2017

Adieu, adieu, old year
You are now a memory
A bright twinkle in the eye
A lined wrinkle on the face
A small tear; a smile of glee

Farewell, farewell, old year
You began with new quests
Some altered, I faltered
Month after month flew
You served well; tis time you rest

I will think of you, old year -
Your golden dawns, silver moons
I made you, you made me
But alas, the time with you
Is over - gone too soon

Adieu, fond adieu, old year
Do you think this is the end?
Nay, you will be remembered
Scripted, painted, pictured
You are part of me - a friend

But with you - I shall let go
My failings - (for you give the cue)
And embrace another year
With an open mind and heart
And dreams and hopes anew