I hate to see you go
Good friends never say goodbye
Fireflies, when can I see you again?

Swaying blades of grass
Tenderly await
Grazing cattle

Impersonator
Melted into the dark
My ghostly shadow

Passionate flyer
Amused the swarm of spellbound onlookers
Hummingbird splashing in shallow water

Flickering lanterns
Lit up the night sky
Luminous fireflies

"Touch me not!"
Cringed
Touch-me-not

Climbing up and down
Do you count your steps,
Li'l squirrel?

Writing is my passion
You're my inspiration

My rock solid foundation
Whom I seek in times of tribulation

Pragmatic precepts did he essay
Not so difficult to follow, I would say

Though departed to a place far away
His memories keep me swing and sway

I yearn for your visitation
Desperately need some consolation

Fire in the belly
Giggle
Flintstones

Swarm of bees
Gushed into the carcass
To build honeycomb

On a rainy day
A queen conch shell washed ashore
Wanting to be picked

Momentous occasion of new arrivals
Signaled an eruption of joyous celebration
Cacophonous rookery

Remains a mute witness
Invoked Miranda Rights?
Mysterious Stonehenge

Who taught you to build,
Weaverbird?
I'm homeless and destitute

Grassy springtime
Alongside the cattle
Dog munching grass

Riding without a saddle
Careful!
Do you hear me, oxpecker?

He hath made everything beautiful in his time...my mom read
Vast expanse of star-studded firmament
Enchanting fragrance of Lilly of the valley
Bewitching spring crocuses
Enticing aroma of blossoms of the fig trees
Lush rolling vineyards brimming with grapes
Delectable rubies of pomegranate
Majestic Cedars of Lebanon
Surrealistic land of olives
Melodies of beetles
Bleats of goats
Euphonious songs of birds
Yet, in stark contrast, what I hear now are wails and desperate pleas for help
I had a dream, my Lord
To revel in the enduring bond with my father
It's so magical you know
To snuggle up to my mom and suckle
She's a benevolent empress to my papa
To me, a merciful cherub
But, I wither in hunger within the womb, my God!
The medics around my mom say she's bleeding heavily
A shrapnel pierced her aorta
They also whisper, her chances of survival are slim
What's an aorta? Why did shrapnel hurt her?
What's life? Why do they celebrate it?
What's death? Why do they mourn?
These are elusive and beyond my understanding
It doesn't matter whether I'm Sarah or Fatima
My dreams are shattered, nipped in the bud
Answer me, my Lord, "Why have you forsaken me?"