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Those beautiful souls who uplift
and inspire, keep those souls
close to your heart for they are
the real gems that light up
your life with their magic, mojo,
and energy in this sometimes
dark cruel world we live in.
Last year with a heavy heart...
We moved in to this new house..

Human emotions are so confusing..
I am in a country far away from my own,
I don't connect here though,
Still when it comes to moving
First old temporary house seems more mine than the other new one..


When we came here,
The house was full of trees..
But strange things happened...
Each day my daughter came back with tiny red beads with no holes in it...
They were perfect red beads
Triangle in shape, slight elevated in the middle..
Each time she came with one my curiosity grew many fold...

After few months. . We got the surprise of our life..
The trees with tiny leaves had brown dried beans..
The fully dried beans had split open and stuck out from it
Were the same red 'beads'.... Today was found they were 'RED BEANS'..

After searching the web.. And settle the curiosity
After breaking each dried beans from the tree..
After storing each red bean..
I found out they are beans of RED SANDALWOOD..
The strange fact too..
In The old times..
Due to uniqueness and perfection of shape
Jewellers used it to measure gold!!
In my quest I found
The seeds are valuable even today..!!

But for me and my daughter it was a treasure of our new house
Memories building for a 'new temporary house'
To make it a loving old house,
The new house which was call "forest"
For it's various insects, bees, & multipedes.. Both brown and albino,
We finally forgot our old house..
We started loving our new house..
Almost after a year we moved in..
We love it equally if not more..

Sparkle In Wisdom'
#new house #curious daughter.
A gifted soul

The beauty resides
in the soul,

The one who
understands this
is pristine.

The one who
imbibes this
is ageless.

The one who
absorbs this
is a Mahatma.

A beautiful soul
reverberates sounds
harmony and peace

Sparkle In Wisdom
15 March 2019
Macroscopia allows a view,
Verdant brilliance, a star's birth.
Yet, our microscopicness ignores,
The atom should not be split.

400 years of supposed "science"
Has stolen the earth's richness,
Michaelangelos from the sky,
Is killing life as fast as
Before last ice age ensued.
Biophilia or necrophilia, choose!

Vie's evolving song is as silent as
A stone's ballad for being's loss.
Yet, manifest destiny rag drags on,
Turtle Island's shell won't cover,
Approaching abyss on the horizon.

Vitae's wail echoes crimson,
As acid rain from your closed
Eye falls, Earth's tears bleeding,
For, all you see is grey.
Written in the 90's.  Climate Strike needs all our supports, also 'Fridays for Future', extinction rebellion, sunrise movement, etc.; global climate strike, next one, 11-29-19.  Thanx for all you do; have a great day   :)   reality
Like towering giants kneeling in supplication,
their outstretched arms toward the delicately turned word.
Distended shapes wizened characters,
tender hands a viridescent shade,
uncurl their fingers towards the light.
Susurrating thoughts as paraphs
climb vinous trunks--Nature's design.

The raspy sigh

on clustered petioles in ortanique rays,
the fluttery petals of a gossamer wing,
stays poised to dawn her colorful cloak
tendrils of life weave intricate paths
beyond the prickling needles,
the blissful joviality--a child's laugh,
brushes across the morning's dewy-eyed wake,
with caught-breath, transformation's pace deliberates.

In perception's grasp,
knotted ropes tightly bind the world
to pen--the leaf-like mouth speaks with flourished tongue
to display a kaleidoscope of wonder,
our words are ancient knights,
but at chains that clutch intangibles,
she breathes--she lives to soar.
Laughter swelled on summer days,
sprinkled with water fights and frolicking smiles
that leaped and gamboled
across open faces.

The sun whose visage was all but hidden,
glowed with vows for more to come,
as you sat in your corner,
with your needlework and perfect stitches.

And any light was blocked
by the shadows
that swallowed you whole
while I played as a child with hope.

You died with a heart open to love
but light smothered in your eyes.
I tried to reach you after I saw your pain.
But needles and stitches
kept me away,
as the darkness sewed you tightly closed.

(I wish I'd had a pair of scissors.)
We poets through eyes--through fingers
through ink--seal fates to freshly see
innocence--in savagery, honor in artifice.
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