~~
Southern winds have gone away
The music player has hanged
When playing the last romantic song

The Chill North wind is Sigh of yours
Has grown the pale Afternoon
How stupid the fade trees Standing!

Distant garden flower's Petals
Wither,
Helpless,
Careless

Midnight dew
Create the illusion of Sound
Nearby Lamppost,
Standing in the dim light fog
Alone,
Retreat
As the Calling Owl of the Night

Smokes of Cigarette lost in the Shadow
Putting the day,
Slowly vanish before
As the Mist
 
Along the road that you have left
Looked at me Surprisingly
Opening the door,
Just want to scream for unknown reasons
Once Again
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

/
Thou Create Spaces
Within Thou
Barren Fields
Garden
It is born
Many trees
Flowers
Fruits
And do Thou
A mistake,
When thou plucks
The Flower
From the tree

The lesson of
Nature
Moves you to
Open Sky
Into the waves
Of Sea
Into the Black Shale
Of Paleozoic
Ripples
And reach the
Thoughts
In the home
Of Star

Now thou have
Learned
To count Stars
Move to
Get beyond,
Of which
May be found
The Edge
Of the Spaces
One Day
/*
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

The color of your skin, does not tell me
  what kind of person you are-
Your language, or accent, does not tell me
  what kind of person you are-
Your creed does not tell me,
  what kind of person you are-
It is you, that shows me, what kind of person you are!

copyright: richard riddle 04-08-2014

7:30am.
Pleasantly cool morning, a fresh cup of hot coffee sits on the glass top of the patio table.
School buses are rolling towards the high school a quarter of a mile away.
Others are walking  with their backpacks, heavily laden with enough material to prevent them from standing *****.
Some in groups, some in twos,
boy and girl in love, hands clasped together-
All like the animals heading towards the ark.
I wonder what they are thinking.  
Perhaps an exam to face, an unfinished essay due, the upcoming weekend.
Or, just wanting to-

"Make it through the Day."

copyright: richard riddle: February 19, 2015

WINGS OF GOD
     MATLOOB BOKHARI
I saw a soaring and dancing bird
Joyfully singing his Maker’s praise
The mid-air flying bird was soaring
With complete faith and pure freedom
I asked: “how  do you fly in empty sky?”
The happy flying bird replied in humbleness:
“My wings are in the air, eyes are on ground
Fly close to God ; God will be closer to you!”