I woke up to a sky of grey
a hiding sun, a rainy day
clouds of hail - stormy what nots
rotund, dang and heavy drops

I said to them, be my poem.

Then the clouds of storm cleared
the golden orb appeared
a rainbow spilled color on the grass
the blossoms sang sweetly - unasked

I said to them, be my poem

To the poor man on the street
and the rag picker with bare feet
the cobbler and the fruit seller
the palmist and the fortune teller

I said to them, be my poem

To a new born and then, flesh on a pyre
the wind that whisks ashes from fire
to the fragrance of spring and the frost of cold
the stench of garbage and the scent of rose

I said to them, be my poem

I turned to love, anger and defeat
laughed with humour and cried with grief
traced the many fleeting expressions on a face
fluid movements and those without grace

I said to them, stay and be my poem

Then I paused, I looked within -inside
into my heart and into my mind
so I could meet myself and know
see and hear, feel and grow

So that one day, I too may become a poem

My hair is a tuft of clouds
Who knows
Maybe I could find an angel
Hidden there
Having fallen from the skies

I coloured my world today
my hands smeared in pastels
canary yellows
ripe peaches and cardinal ochres
pink from a flamingo sunrise
a passionate cerise

Splashed
an array of feisty blues
a flamboyant turquoise
a topaz tango
a twinkling periwinkle

Streaked it with
beams of gold
contoured lilac smudges
lavender tipped edges
in custard pineapple floats

Splattered emeralds, toned pistachio
fern greens with swift finger strokes.

Tempered it with
muddy crusty earthy browns
rock coloured sandy mounds
reined in royal purple
the sensual blaze of a flaming sunset
the dark indigo of a gloaming sky
agate drops a few
a silver sliver of a crescent new

I coloured my world
with my eyes
my words
my fingers, hands
my hues
....just the way I wanted to

Sitting pretty on the window sill
Perfect and pleasing to the eye
Facing the rising sun
On a clear blue cloudless sky

Do you dream of open spaces?
Of stretching your arms free
Spreading like the mighty oak -
Or the lofty banyan tree?

Would you your leaves be swept by winds
Your breath carried by rain
Growing in the wilderness
With flowers wild, untamed?

And if I hold you close to me ...
Would I hear your soul cry?
Sitting pretty on a window sill
The perfect potted bonsai

At one time
I would scour the skies
looking for the moon, the stars
and some odd galaxy

But now, distant as I am
And wont to hide
I wonder if they scour the earth
And look for me

I am a page
Inside a dusty book

Easy to read
Line by line
But a whole paragraph
Might blow your mind

Part tear stained
Definitely dog eared

Easily able
To put me down
Knowing where I am at
When you come back around

I am a page
With lots to say

At times
I make perfect sense
But on that front
You still take a chance

Coffee stained
Slightly torn page

Many flaws
But easy to see
Through it all
Well worth the read

I would be summer to your heart
And ochre autumn to colour days
Winter too, in all her mystic beauty
And spring in her glorious array

I would be the cool summer rain
That gently falls from an open sky
Or the winter's welcome mellow sun
That warms a face with a smile

I would be too, the heady breeze
That dances and sings melodies
The joy of all seasons that lifts the heart
And shields life neath its canopy



Inspired by -
Edna St. Vincent Millay -I know I am but summer to your heart.

Grateful for the blue skies
For the warmth of a day 
For soft drops of rain

For lilac buds and trees 
Dancing leaves 
For ocean waves on sandy grains. 

Grateful for what is seen 
Touched, felt 
In whispers heard

The moment that soaks in 
The little joys of life 
Midst the spinning of the world.

Grateful for wine and water
Fruit of orchards
Seasons that shed

For hands that help 
Eyes that speak 
With words unsaid.

Grateful for those who love 
For the wind behind
Feathered wings

For angels that twinkle 
Through the stars 
And the light they bring.

Grateful for kindness 
Tenderness 
Hugs in gentle embrace

Grateful for smiles 
That come my way 
That my fingers love to trace.

Grateful for rays of hope 
That fill a cup 
Then glimmer on the rim

Grateful for you 
And the quiet presences 
For the gift of life and Him.

It's hard being sober
It's hard staying clean
Hard making a living
If you know what I mean

Hard loving your neighbor
Harder loving yourself
Could you do me a favor
And go bother somebody else

It's hard to smile in certain crowds
And not tell the truth sometimes out loud
It can be hard to make a move
When you're not sure of what to do

It can be hard to do what's right
In everybody's sight
Hard to extend the hand of kindness
To those you do not like

It's hard to know when to let go
Be it people or worrying
Hard at times to give up hope
And other times a simple thing

It's hard being a witness
In a world that's part of you
Hard like nobody's business
If you want to know the truth