I remember
when I found out

what
not who but what
god is

it hit me like a ton of bricks
when I felt it

not He
but it

and that was so surreal
to feel

to realize
that god is real

no name
no face
no soul
only control

god does not know

god is
.

Whenever I try to write about her
I feel like I don't have enough space on my paper
How can I define her? 
When I myself originated from her definition
How can I restrict her within a few lines? 
When my entire words are enslaved before her
How can I portray her life in a poem? 
When my own life is indebted to her...

And even if she herself asks to write her down
Then also, a tale for her won't be enough
Even if to summarise her down
I'd need to write a novel or two
And if she asks to be drawn down
Then nothing would be tougher than this
'Cause a canvas won't be able to hold her entire explosion of colours
And to counter that, I'd only be left with a single option... 
To build an art castle in a space not less than the sun!

इत्तेफाक से कुछ ऐसे हालात हो गए
कल तक जो अज़नबी थे, आज वो भी साथ हो गए
फिर भी इक कसक है दिल मे उनके जाने का
ना जाने क्यूं सारे जवाब आज सवालात हो गए

Coincidentally, things happened this way
Yesterday's strangers have become my Known ones today
Still there's a pang in my heart over her departure
Don't know why all the answers have turned into questions these days..!

When the sun arises in the morning above the pristine snow
and the stillness of the silence brings the panting deer ahead
When the heaven laden trees of winter slices heaven's glow
I know for sure that you will be there, in all of my tomorrows

When the train has bridged the miles across the forest glades
and the January snowflakes have swiveled through the air,  
like a thousand glistening diamonds, I will  venture into safety  
with the knowledge that you'll be there, in all of my tomorrows

When winter turns to spring and then to softer June  
I will wait inside this garden where all the flowers bloom
with the fragrance of her damask you will know that I was there
and you'll be certain of my presence, in all of your tomorrows,    

In all of our tomorrows, we'll be there.

You gave me the freedom to fly against the wind
And tried to hold my string in your hand
But you never realized I was a bird, not a kite
Who has its own wing to chase the sky...
And now that you've recognised my flight
It's too late for me to climb that height..!

Adrift her world no obstacles no dreams to moor, immobilized and still  
she sailed through stardust particles then glode into the nil
Into the fire of night she tousled through, by daylight saving time a strew  
a scattering of stars appeared leading her inside a flower garden made for two;
The scent of Angel trumpets, gardenias, evening primrose
blended with a fragrant voice, she simply had no choice  
as she pressed her little hand against the lunar soil's embroil,  
foam flowers, chocolate daisies, and Liliums appeared;
A shift, then suddenly beyond the reach of earth a blessed gift of lift
she flew inside that dwelling place where benevolent souls ignite;
Fawning love plush against the evening breeze
even stars of night choose their light protease
when a small child enters an evening Kingdom,
like a Grandiflorus cactus, falling backwards into time...

052122

We are called God’s masterpiece –
We are His art in progress.
Each was an abstract of their kind
And only the Artist knows how to interpret it;
Only He knows what we are made of and made for.

When others see the beauty in us,
The credit is not ours but to our Artist.
He made us and He finds beauty in us.

Art is an expression
And God expressed Himself through us.
What kind of Artist is He?
Who made us out of His image.

How selfless is He?
And how loving is He?
No one can even take a glimpse
Of His mindful plans for us.

And so we are meant to create something new,
Something that our soul is passionate about,
Something that boosts our confidence in the Lord,
Something that brings us to the fulfillment of His purpose for us.

To express ourselves in various forms of art —
The art of love, forgiveness, redemption, salvation, and so on.
We indeed are God’s art
And as we continue to align ourselves with Him
That picture becomes clearer each day.

☕️☕️☕️

Awake still, a few hours
before sunrise…and yet,
every morning, rising early
is a hard habit to break.

Dry thirsty mouth awaits
the morning’s initial cup
of steaming fulfillment.
caffeine's instantaneous effect
goes beyond waking hours,
working it’s way through the
day’s unfolding inspirations,
born from uncertainty, as
well as predictability, and
through deep concentration
and cups of hot refills.

One gets rapt in the hours of the
day…regardless if it’s a win or lose,
five-thirty…six pm approaches...
Mooned…or moonless, night comes,
to pause, or otherwise…our bodies,
our circumstances, the horizon speak:

‘Enough’ is a decision arrived at,
the dark sky leads to a new dawn,
to new journeys, once again, to be
enriched, inspired, and sustained by
countless cups of fresh coffee.

So, if it’s already four, or five am,
no more dilly-dallying..get up now,
have your first cup…take the first sip,
be driven………….be inspired.
☕️☕️☕️

sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

We understood each other better...
When you're just a ‘White Light’
and I was a mere ‘Glass (Slab).’
But the moment you found that ‘Prism,’
you dispersed and showed 7 colors...
That left me confused, to figure out,
which one's true..!