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ryn Apr 2021
Laid my feet in the dirt
when the monsoon came.

      Heavy pelts.
      Magnificent flashes.
      Angry skies.

It was a perfect storm.

Time to move
yet I can’t,
with these feet caked in mud.
ryn Apr 2021
Ernest prayers,
as it always would begin...

     “Eddying echoes...
     Be not my foes.

     Let sand under feet,
     be kith and kin.

     Let arms that toil,
     be hands that sows.”


.
ryn Mar 2021
The knowledge of days
beyond tomorrow.

The vision of nights,
graced by future moons.

The brief glimpse
behind the veil of sorrow.

The eternal unrest
due to a life gone too soon.
ryn Mar 2021
A vessel

with no harbour...


Adrift with its anchor.

That had dangled and swayed,

almost mindless...


As if caught in an entrance -


in the spell
of persuasive currents.
ryn May 2020
I want to be there...

When the sun would shine
upon the ready sand -
and presents us gold.

When it spears
into the excitable ripples
of the water -
and gives us emeralds.

When it caresses
sun-hungry skins -
and gives them back
their lives.


.
I miss the beach.
ryn May 2020
our mouths go dry,
our actions get lazy,
our anchors unmoored,
our directions change,
our bearings are misaligned,
our charts remain unplotted,
our complacencies swell,
our greed metastasise,
our ignorance nurtured...


How then,
would our story end?


.
ryn May 2020
Words from the maker,
we hardly could ever hear,

Bereft of love and attention,
we see the diminishing concern and care.

We still pour our hearts
into this bastion we’ve held so dear.

But, alas, the kingdom and subjects,
have fallen into neglect and disrepair.
When did HP become a broken shell, a faint ghost of what it once was?
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