dance sweet Belle,
i can see you in the shadows
all laughter and bluebells.

petals of the wind,
like lilies unfolding
in the water.

Dreams of mountain streams
And washing trees in the wind.
Let me leave this world
And start anew again..

Off I set with not much to tote.
Getting lost among the trees,
The mind has little to quote.
But here and there it shall roam,
Looking deeply for a small forest home.

One morning I cracked my door
And let the wind come in.
It sang songs of freedom
And hope for mankind.
But all alone a small man cottage,
Chirping songs of a free bird
But no one to hear the rhyme..

A leaf fell on to the skin of water
Balancing between floating and
Sinking, like a second life it was
Neither here or their.

Ever in-between traveling between
The realms of life and death. For
It did not grow becoming ever more
Fragile, seeing above naked branches
Where life once gave but fell.

And below as it skimmed on this fragile
Moment, dancing to the whims of the
Winds as past hence but more delicate
Where movements than they were before.

Little fragile existence of what was and
Had now become, it enjoyed its dance
But knew that it was a matter of time
Before the dance ended and to pieces it
Would collectively sink one last time.

Look up
Where the sky sets down

See for what
It is and differently

From every view
The same sky

Dark
        Light
                 Lustrous
                               Ambivalent
Spectacular

See all of this
that no one
can



MChallis @ 2015

dream of lilies,
blues and whites
in their little islands,
flower of the starlight,
flower of the water.

the crescent moon, bent
like Arjuna's bow
draws her ink-dark arrow across all heaven

she is first to intersect venus, then mars,
then on in one omniscient arc to trace
the centre of being

across skies, across eons
across all beginnings, endings,
all that is and was

long to outlast all human experience
and all that can be foreseen


MChallis © 2015

Sometimes I see the good in this world of ours.
While other times I see the suffering right here.
But through them all , I always see God's Hope.
So no matter what happen in this world here.
I shall never forget that Christ can turn it around.
So I shall keep on seeking his will for me here.
Knowing that till I pass away from this life here.
I  shall keep persevering and seeing his  Hope ahead.
For there are so many here that I see his Light in them.
I see his Spirit in them too and know that they overcome too.

.
..
...
When the inflated crunching sky turns into the black hole, one by one the expected stars slowly falling on the horizon, sudden deep dark clouds cover the silky face of moon, or the earth takes the full moon.

Long, long shadows darken the meadows, southern wind can’t open your closed window at all, standing along on the curve of a road, a sigh to fly in the wind, roaming heart finding a home.

See the mystic form of the known objects, distant standing old banyan tree suppose to feel a lonely friend of mine, a friend of rootless time, when silly, bogus thoughts engulfed me, want to break up but change does not cry out.

Melancholy beauty in the dark, floating with the imagine gulls in the sky, draw the red sun on the canvas of dark sky within the wings of dream, again see you are playing with the seven colors across my unfinished sky.
.
..
...
@Musfiq us shaleheen

a spell changes the consciousness of being
puts a spell on you manipulated by magic
of words the syntactical nature
the world made of words
would you like to let go
a light within the whole
to direct your conscious mind
the magic a real secret
to know the words
that the World is made of
an internal spiritual essence
these words to know
your strength of power
to overcome all that has blocked you
a spell to cast is within you
the words waiting
to touch the tip of your tongue
the spell your arrangement
to pass a person or thing
that has been
holding you back
rise the words above you
and let them settle in
on a piece of paper
the name of it that must submit
begone to never hold you back
doodle an image of betrayers
do what you will with your pen
tell it formally you are above them
above the things done to you
any words to use to change them
say them now
above the paper and pen rise
whisper to it
shout if you will it
vent all the negativity
they have caused you
take the paper and burn it with fire
add more burning let the flames reach higher
now let it burn out completely
in your fire safe container
it all goes add spit ***** or water
done pour on a plant
that grows and grows
to shares the struggle with you
nurture your plant
nurture your self
you are done with the spuded
black sand and glass castles
hold storm water in your hands
to a rickitglen the woods go
we shall wander like vines
our eternal spirit the eternal land
self care spells
talking tree spirits
receive some visions to share      gjmars 7/23/15

There was a bird that time, a flicker
they always remind me of you
the melt of spring fever, the tapping on the roof
how like snow the petals flew
that window, the rain, the rainbows too
the breath and sigh of you
our springtime walks
the way the forest talked
soon of summer to come
we were completely undone
unchained in the falling rains
sweet like music the call
of your name.

Our Buddleia is now in bloom
as a ' Butterfly Bush' also known
The water gathers on the purple flowers
from July's  slow, sultry rainy showers
Oh what a lovely summer sight!
When in the sun, butterflies take flight
& land upon the bush in their glory!
The Buddleia stands abandoned today
the Sunday city lies beyond
it in the distance & I'm reminded
this is such an English day
the kind we don't see on postcards
( though is talked of much)
& has to be lived through & felt
A day breathed in in great lung-fulls each
time you come back from being away
in case it disappeared & left
you reeling & sank into your memory
like Atlantis sinking eerily
into the restless Sea's waves
the Buddleia knows of this
& calls me to admire it in the rain