By his side, the devout chant God's glory
in a life so brittle and fragile
yet not lacking in strength to navigate
on the river of chaotic turbulence.

Some are tearlessly silent,
a few are about to embrace a cry
and there is one whose wails
reverberate and pound the walls.

The ascent to the greater kingdom
is adorned with white lotus
and incense that smell of heaven.

Filled with the finality
there is no point denying,
the atheist sleeps on peacefully.

I want to be your playmate
Dancing on the bubbles of our joy.
I want to be your everything
Providing all you need and more.

        I want to be your hiding place
        When storms of life surround you.
        I want to be the face you see
        When you wake up forever.

                 I want to be a steady beam
                 To light the ways we travel.
                 I want to be part of your life
                 As long as God will let me
                              ljm

You,
Me,
And, in between are,
My dreams,
About us.

In the end we are the sum
total of the efforts we invested,
or conversely our failed deficiency
in that regard. With no one to
appreciate or blame, but ourselves.

(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?