every day
walking through a hall of lies
"how are you's"
"I'm good's"
"hello's & hi's"

walking,
eyes straight ahead
I see nothing,
never ends.

A lifetime of moments
spread like tiny seeds
scattered at her feet
Learning, growing
smiling, crying
laughter and tears
giggles and fears
and all the ups and downs
of a girl with stars in her eyes
and dreams in her skies
A lifetime of moments
spread like tiny seeds
scattered by innocent feet
so she can bloom
like blue in the spring
and purple in the fall
She has now blossomed
into a flower of all seasons

She is Payal...

Mama said I was a miracle from the Lord above,
Conceived from a soft embrace, gentleness, and love.
Tied between two intact heartstrings,
I was their perfect little epitome of everything.
There I was, held together at the wishing well,
Brought down from heaven, but born in hell
Unto the stranger things in life that we look back on with strife
Painting a pretty portrait of treachery, capturing the misery
And surrounded by the impurest mysteries,
This is I, Mommy’s miracle and Daddy’s distaste,
A spiral down the wrong path and pathetic human waste,
My life left in a shattered mess
Since this “miracle” was labeled a child of darkness.

From the cold marble tower of loneliness
I gaze at the moon, my loyal sentry;
Then dreams of love tap at the window pane,
And too willingly I grant them entry

Why does the moon frown in disappointment
And let passing clouds take him from my sight?
Does he not know my pain of solitude
Is far too great to bear alone this night?

As bells labor to announce the twelfth hour,
Loneliness comes scattering its ****** seed,
Yet, the blessed harvest of fantasies
That follow, bring comfort, sating my need

A touch, a kiss, his heart pressed against mine,
Once more, loving arms become my prison;
My darkened realm glows with the light of love
Until the morning's first rays have risen

But how could the moon ever understand
The pain and longings of the human heart?
If he could but dwell in this anguished frame,
Would he, too, not dream, holding dear this art?

So I lay here each night with heart forlorn
Trying to explain to the moon my plight,
Waiting for fantasies to take my hand
As together we fly into the night

Come back, old Moon, and keep me company,
Be my light as the shadows come and go,
Watch me weave this sadness into a dream
While the rivers of sweet illusions flow!

Show me
true beauty
how waves
break the shore
into individual grains
yet each contains
the whole
crystalline universe
reflecting light
renouncing midnight

Leave me not
upon the sand
barefoot and stripped
recounting sins
to the weary wind
return my heart
to loving grace
salt-scrubbed chambers
cleansed of hate
tenderly reborn

let love
rise from this
arid ground
clear water drawn
from a deeper well
with cupped hands
tend the seeds
so we may eat
of the bounty
that rightfully belongs

to no one

So I tried to share,
Something beautiful
With even my mother
She's a zombie
Like the rest
Memes,
Few words at a time,
At her best
What will happen?
When we're all illiterate?
When poetry is gone
I believe,
That'll be it
No more humanity,
No more beauty
And that's all I have to say of that.......

The hike up the steep grassy knoll was arduous.
My legs had laboured for the heart that yearns.
The peak had called with a chorus of promise;
The lyrics sung of vantage and foresight
and of clarity that burns.

The summit now conquered...
Strained eyes blinked away the sting from
trickling rivulets of sweat.
I was perched atop a boulder anticipating a view
which I had expected different but inadvertently get.

The sun was kind and air was sweet.
I tried to see as hard as my lungs had fought...
But my eyes couldn't puncture the shroud
of fog and mist
that lingered over the future I had sought.

Attention brought back to where I had trudged.
I can't move forward without looking back...
At the path through which I had decided to pass.
Gasping at the result of conscious footfalls and clumsy missteps.
I can't help but regret and weep
over the wake of the devastation,
my reckless feet had made apparent in the grass.

I had my fingers on a string
And only I could see
The pleasant sound that I could bring
A note of symphony.
The fond caress of vibration
On the forgotten hand
Evokes in me such elation
I fly above my land.