They come in the night,
running down moonbeams,
and I hear them,
laughing,
shadows playing hide and seek
or tag…
maybe jumping rope…
I don’t know.
I run to the window,
I try to see,
But they’re gone again,
around the corner, behind a bush
out of sight from me.
I leave my warm bed,
and open my door to the cold, night wind
but it carries them away,
and now they cry, as do I.
Each night they come,
each night I seek them out,
each night since they hide,
from me, and why not?
I took them to this place,
the playground of the ******,
cold and dark and alone
with no loving hand to tuck them in,
or the warmth of their mother’s arms.
I was God that day, to them.
Old testament , raining fire
taking the first born child…
and the second as well..
and brought Hell to the Earth
on one sunny afternoon.
Again, I hear them
just out of sight,
running, laughing without joy,
pointing at me,
and asking “Why?”
I have no answer to that,
I only know the “Who”,
But they know that.
At the end for me,
I hope to see them again,
this time to hold them close,
and explain the sins of men,
and tuck them into bed, to sleep.

On quiet nights the children come,
                                          From distant places in my past,
                                          And quietly their footsteps fall
                                          They’ve run so far and fast.

                                          I hear them as they play and laugh
                                          And peer around the trees,
                                          I turn to see them, but they’re gone,
                                          a soft and gentle breeze.                                    
      
                                          Do they run among the clouds,
                                          or here on dampened ground?
                                          I cannot tell, I cannot see,
                                          They’re nowhere to be found.

                                           I worry that they may be cold,            
                                           Does someone tuck them in?
                                           Soft blankets do they cover with,
                                           to fend off cool night winds?

                                           For now I listen in the dark,
                                           And revel in their play.
                                           And wonder where they’re going to,
                                           When night turns into day.

                                           So now I wait ‘til daylight ends,
                                           The sun to set, the moon to rise,
                                           And hope the children never see,
                                           the tears well in my eyes.

                                           Nights are when they get to play
                                           To be what they should be.
                                           To run, to dance, to jump and sing
                                           all this because of me.

                                          Some day I hope to hold their hands,
                                          and walk with them awhile.
                                          And not just hear them as they play,
                                          but watch and see them smile.

                                          And then I’ll kneel before them both,
                                          And look them in the eye,
                                          And ask them if they can forgive,
                                          it was me that made them die.

The Sun stood still
Burning the people underneath
Making them lifeless
And now, all is but a silence

                                 Except me,

There’s a noise inside my head
Making my heart beat steadfast
And the heat of the sun couldn’t make it stop,
Too loud and too strong to take my life.

where have conversations gone
long time passing
where have all our love words gone
long time ago
where have all our love words gone
mobiles took them, every one
when will we ever learn
I hope they will return

where have all the mobiles gone
long time passing
where have all the notebooks gone
long time ago
where have all the kindles gone
turned to tablets, every one
when will we ever learn
there will be no return

where have all the tablets gone
long time passing
where have all the smart phones gone
long time ago
where have all these gadgets gone
been recycled every one
never they will return
never they will return

where have all the users gone
long time passing
where have all the texters gone
long time ago
there lie all the facebooks slain
people try to speak again
when will we ever learn
hope they again can learn

You’re the moon I will forever adore
Always distant yet the apple of my eye
Wanting to hold your hands
Before I lay in peace...

Stand near you,

Look into your eyes

And see closely….

*The magnificent light

You confidently carry

Even in bluest of time.

the pain you feel
howls out within
to be articulate

and haltingly
   you start
to carve its silhouette
on people's minds

knowing that nothing's gained
unless your pain
meets with itself
in others