Death is not the final word.
Without ears, my father still listens,
still shrugs his shoulders
whenever I ask a question he doesn't want to answer.

I stand at the closet door, my hand on the ****,
my hip leaning against the frame and ask him
what does he think about the war in Iraq
and how does he feel about his oldest daughter
getting married to a man she met on the Internet.

Without eyes, my father still looks around.
He sees what I am trying to do, sees that I
have grown less passive with his passing,
understands my need for answers only he can provide.

I imagine him drawing a breath, sensing
his lungs once again filling with air, his thoughts ballooning.

The stars come out slowly at night and tell me about a girl,
With eyes like the azure skies and hair like the grapevine twirl;
The flowing breeze avers the story of a woman with skin milky pure,
She smiles a saccharine smile it says, with an aura of tease and allure;
The clouds spill a secret on me; they rain their coolest waters,
You must find her they insist; she is one of God’s most beautiful daughters;

The chirping of the birds in the trees attracts me as if a message they are trying to send:
She lives in an Elysian palace beyond the horizon; is it there that my search will end;
In the cadence of the tides, I can vaguely hear a persistent, earnest request,
You must seek the flower of the flowers; you must seek the treasure chest;

She walks like falling leaves on a spring afternoon, when there's no summer zephyr,
Every step forward is an august swirl, her every grace is a tempting desire,
The bees dance to an inaudible tune, her they forever try to define,
The queen bee gives up thinking she must be an exquisite calligraphy, so very divine;
The Gulmohar tree grins, jealous of her flawless figure, unable to castigate her, he speaks:
‘She shines ivory white in a darkened cavern, as if formed by joining stalactite and stalagmite peaks’;
Stepping out of the shower of falling stars, dripping wet in a blinding light, her silhouette the night tries to disclose,
She looks like a freshly picked rose bud each time, lined with droplets of dew, her callow figure, half open half closed;

The Pyramids of Egypt narrate to me the day when God was in the mood to paint,
Cleopatra died of envy that day they say, and Aphrodite lost all her pride and became a saint;
It was the day when she was created, when God became an artisan without a cause,
Creating her, he lost his ardor; working on the astral canvass he removed all her flaws;
He gave her the candor of a little child when handed for the first time in the arms of its mother,
He gave her the eloquence of speech a nightingale has and the sensation like a tranquil pigeon feather;
She got the canter of the reindeers; she got the touch like spreading wildfire,
She got the brightest aureole; she got the love hidden in God’s deepest mire;

The rivers made me swear, this arcane knowledge to myself I must keep,
The mountains made me avow, that till I find her there is no food, no water, and no sleep;
The nature cajoled me into looking for this apocryphal woman and to this day I search,
I have capitulated my heart to her and she teases at me from her heavenly perch;
Looking askance at me, she calls, find me o' lover she says,
I know she’s worth it, that’s why I still roam in winding ways….
I know she’s worth it, that’s why I still roam in winding ways….

A bluebird flew..
More bluebirds followed..  
And another.

Swings, slides and merry go rounds creaked,
Empty playgrounds called their little friends to come play,
As none came but the chilling wind,
Blowing leaves in mornings bleak.  

So the bluebirds flew,
Bluebirds flew South,
And another..

She was kind to kids,
He was overwhelmed by their chatter,
She'd swing em around in her arms,
He'd give em rides on his back all day.
They weren't there either,
Cause they came for the children,
Who were away on vacation,

Above the bluebirds flew,
Invisible against the sky,
And another...

Snowflakes fell, scant and slow,
Trees became whiter and sun shone brighter,
Parks were deserted, no school buses were seen,
Nor an ice-cream truck in sight, only a white hazy sheen,
For December had arrived and in its wake the people had fled,
To beaches in tropics and islands alike..

Where the bluebirds flew,
The bluebirds flew there to,
And another..

It wasn't chance, it was merely unfair,
Which is why it was this way,
They didn't go to church, But merely walked in arms,
Never praying but forever wishing, for a little luck to come their way,

Bluebirds afar flew,
Bluebirds flew to lands far away,
And another...

Soon the earth spun, and seasons changed,
The parks they filled, the buses they plied,
Running all over the city, for ice-cream they once again cried,
All came back that evening in the park,  all but one,
Their favorite one..

Bluebirds chirped,
Back North the bluebirds returned,
And another..

Wondering what had happened,
They rushed to find out,
Tried his place, it was locked,
Couldn't find him at school nor in parks,
The Cityhall and even the church they tried
A tiny red haired girl, nowhere they could find,
And then they got the news,
Her parents had been lost at sea,
Leaving the little one all alone behind,

The Bluebirds flew in circles,
Them Bluebirds couldn't fly,
But another..

How'd the earth spun, they never did realize,
Oceans in their aftermath had left something behind,
A wish for them, closure of a kind,
But a bus came, for a foster home that night,
He only got the news the next morning,
All day next and the night thereafter she cried,

The Bluebirds swayed in the winds,
Braced the gust the bluebirds did,
Another tried...

For it showed them a way, twisted although it was,
They'd get their wish, something they never had,
A child of their own and guardians for the poor child,
Solace for all, but yet the world argued,
Morality, fate and blasphemy they called it,
The Other Bluebird simply called it divine.

And so the Bluebirds fly,
Bluebirds seen flying by,
Yes, another..

Fighting an inward battle,
Smiling at the world outside,
Not that it was supposed to be satisfying,
It was better than cowering to life and dying.

It's an old man's game, I think,
To think too much about everything that goes on,
But helpless one must be,
For stuck in mazes inside of his head he is,
Unable to move beyond.

Alive one is,
When in love or in war,
Rephrase that saying, saying all's fair,
Darling, it's only in life,
It's never fair at all.

War is not meant to decide right or wrong,
It's simply against all odds,
Like loving someone you can't have,
Yet living only for a night with her alone.

That's how it is with some people,
Just, unlucky some are, or so they seem,
Fated to be a rebel, a fighter,
Only solace in struggle, and only sleep in dreams.

Flair up those engines,
It's a long night..
Might as well make the most of the stars and moonlight,

Let's talk some more, come twilight,
Why not walk some more..
Not worry about that 6am flight,

Covered her up, sheltering her from cold, thunderstorms and morning showers,
And not shiver himself with her in his arms..
Lest the Little girl wake up, strong he must stay for a few more hours,

Atop his building, he sat with just wine,
Alone he was up on that roof, but not lonely that night...
Bemused to see the starts above and night lights below shine alike,

Simple staring at his uncovered form,
Shining in moonlit sheets they stayed...
Him asleep and her blushing all night,

Awake they stayed, for a mountain they had to climb,
Not for a moment repenting the dreams..
That kept them awake before morning the clock chimed,

The subway shook, as the train passed above,
He wrapped her tighter..
Wishing to God, it didn't wake her up,

He raised his last glass, to the couple in the street,
They barely noticed, his toast to their love ..
They turned a corner, in mid air he clicked his feet,

He awoke to find her smiling down on him,
Stretched an arm, for her to kiss..
Just to see, her, in the twilight breaking in,

The snow then shone, brighter than white,
As the sun came, with not a cloud in sight..
The tents were wrapped to be put up again, but at a greater height,

They'd all gotten up to another precious new dawn,
For waits bring more pleasure to the rewards they bring..
Another chance to show, what was yet not shown,


The subway was still dark though, another hour it was loaned,
The luckiest was the Little girl, and her papa was at peace..
For he'd gotten his wish, as she smiled and snug up,
A sleep unbroken, a bond unknown.

I've fallen in love with the pearl of my tear,
washes my eyes and makes me see clear;
meanders down my cheeks when it leaks from my eye,
slithers down in streaks when i look up to the sky;
it rims my eyes like a silver spectacle,
brims them slowly untill a shiny pearl trickles;
reminding me of mother nature's divine power,
its fall taps me on the shoulders and asks me to return, sayin 'stop chasin a star'
i like its pure sensation, its like my mother's own palm,
the touch of her finger over my face making me glide into a sleep so mighty calm....