when the trees call staring down
       ask me what reason I am
walking alone among the pine cones
         dead brown
oak leaves laid about
          barefoot walk a path
that no one ever takes
          I go on walking listening
to them the trees
          they are older and strong
stronger than the asphalt
            where I have to shoe myself
to walk on
            going and listening
to nothing but cars
          loud shrieking brakes
and crashing
         I answer by walking right up to that tree
and kissing her or him
      hard to tell with a tree
right on its bark,
          sit near her or him and whisper
back,
          my reason should be clear
to one older and stronger.

Over the horizon
There were
Wings


                                           A wonderful Being...
                                   wonderful
                          delightful
               and protecting stars
                from falling
           out of grace

Embrace divine!                                                 Creator's­ Credo Love Jive

          Our aura glowing in no time,
                        charming dusk of day
                                     fading away...
                                                    Flutt­er fluid
                                                              be­autiful sound
                                                                ­                  loving...


You
Loving me ...
I'm never alone.

A poem is like
A piece of wood.
It can be ripped,
Chopped,
Shaped,
Sanded for smoothness.
Sometimes you nail it;
And it can stick like glue.
You can drill a hole
Right through it,
It might bore one
Through you.
It can get under your skin.
But when it's cut
Against the grain,
It should be read again.

/
When turning to cross
The  known road
Nightfall sought at transition
Juncture in the global
The road was not going
To go straight to,
Long trees standing as rows
The situation was the frolic of shadows

What a strange illusion
In the air
All the time together
Calling with his hand  
Meantime few steps to the New street
Evenings Came
Tuning of falling leaves
It was all the upset heart
Of the tune
Dry leaves on the road
With the wind in love
The impatient soul

Known moon far away,
Solo
Moonlit falling on the street
In the gap of trees,
Half-light, half shadow
Of aesthetic
Sudden heart bothered
For whom
Restless reflections breaking the heart
Known music floats
In the air
Yet too mystic!
As if the time,
Passing thousands of dreams  
Moving toward the ultimate way to
/
@Musfiq us shaleheen