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 Mar 2016 Jayson
Prabhu Iyer
I am late, flying the long detour
blocked my usual path this morning
another scaffolding
rising to grab a pack of the sky

entering the building for work
I see a thousand blinding lights
each emblazoned
with many shades and colours
of the same words

'I want' 'Give me' 'Done yet?'
'Deadline'
'Give me' 'Give me' 'Talk to me'

echoing many times over

I cowered into my cabin
crawling into the cave
dug in through the wall

and hung upside down
like a bat

this is a yogic pose
mindfulness meditation
I'm seeking out solace

when did the week end?

Swaths of air answered
in a language of hushed silence,
spat down by a giant Catherine wheel
hung from the roof.
 Mar 2016 Jayson
Timothy H
in the days that open Spring
bestoyed to its residents
    newfound dreams
and ridding of arctic air
   that ruled the wind
reminding winter to rescind
this moment in time
    decisions, it seems
are made by the meek
   turned rulers and kings
as the earth and moon must know
to grant a few days to gentle souls -who-
like the newborn cubs and flowers
have some sort of understanding
    with heaven's powers
 Mar 2016 Jayson
Timothy H
our hearts
beat time
we are adam
newly awake
enjoying the sparse
beauty of life
eternally changing
eternally the same

our hearts
beat time
we are trees
giving forth fruit
enjoying the universe
at our feet
eternally changing
eternally the same

our hearts
beat time
pure light
sets thoughts ablaze
our fates
not equal
impermanence
supremely and sharply
sensed
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