The soft Silence
Fragmented in is comfort atmosphere
Your soft whispers
The sweetness of your voice
Is mixed in my ears
Your few humming whispers into the air
You speak to me in whispers
Little  charming sense
When you're singing in whispers
Slowly slowly
Took me in your arms
Lovely tickle in my heart
Your sweetness filled whispers
My heart like this
Me and You and your soft whispers
Always Stay
And never be far away from each other

Seeing to the rain
Listen to the rain
Getting wet in the rain
I feel some cool some light
It seems
Drenched in the rain and washed all the haze was inside me
Rain tinkling sounds good to the ears
It seems
That like tinkling the bangles of a beautiful girl
I spread hands
Turn round and round
Drenched in the rain
The weather is beautiful
This season have becomes adorn the poetry of poets
Rain gives attraction in poetry of poets
Because rain is my and just like me poets weather

You're sitting on your grandmother's porch
Eating watermelon
Spitting out seeds
While grandpa is reading the Sunday paper
You feel a stillness, a peacefulness
to the rolling earth around you
and you understand
You'll never be in that exact moment again
The South has a way of holding your heart in a way you wouldn't know
Always wanting to leave
But when you actually do,
You miss it more than you could even miss a person
It's the stigma of home

I picked flowers when you left
because
when a part of me died
I wanted to replace it with something alive

Why do I believe in an invisible God?
Well,
Why do I believe in air?
Why do I believe in love?
Although I can't see, I can feel, and that's more than enough for my simply complex mind

I was infinity itself, as my father, in a poem he lovingly created,
wanted me to be figured, made me descend from a dream he had.
My mom, most fondly held this form, close to her heart
the epitome of her love for her man and the bloom in her womb
she gifted it, and they both together in a love boat, brought me home,
she held me closer to her *****, so warm I was even in coldest
of nights, yet another poem it indeed was, love set it's  tune.

        In a cloud of stardust I was, yearning to see far off stars dance,
through million years, I swirled, twisted, turned,found love in the end,
love brings perfection, my journey assumed  many many themes
love transformed a speck of dust; found a shiny little diamond.

The incessant march of time, is marked by the music of seasons,
wind blows, clouds race, rain in torrents fall, flowers bloom,
when I invariably return to see that perennial bloom on your lips,
time stands still, how we love this space beyond the reach of time!