Driving through a lake of frozen tears,
hardened and numb to anymore fears,
when you are out in the wilderness,
your mind can only stare at blankness.

Fighting through a winding river of crystals,
walking and wading just as we are mere mortals,
hunkering down to reach faraway bank of promising petals,
holding onto dipping heart rate wishing it was made of metals.

Just then shining crystals pointed to the sky,
ray of yellow brightened and brought a new high,
I got ready to pitch my tent in that cold like it was dry,
for I was ready to face my own fears and give it a goodbye.

She was from the skies,
naturally beautiful and wise,
knowing her would be an everlasting prize,
of the kind that you don’t need to think twice.

She worked many a long hour,
I watered her emotions like a flower,
her light blue eyes had that power,
showering me with a new high like I was in some ivory tower.

Few months went by,
I got to meet her up on the sky,
she had found her old love,
I had met my peaceful lady dove.

Go, fly high!

I gave a speech.
to thousands and more,
on a topic that was never mentioned before,
cause I hadn’t spoken my mind like this on any score.

I sang a song,
to one and all,
on a minor scale was never recorded before,
cause I hadn’t mustered courage to sing my own tune.

I wrote a poem,
for myself,
on a free verse that was not written till now,
cause I hadn’t opened up this way until today.

Creek turning into a mighty waterfall,
pebbles taking on rocks in a brawl,
shaping up into a story,
of the mighty underdog.

I had a dialogue with myself,
waiting for my alter ego to find thyself,
no words were said or heard,
search was never-ending and blurred.

Just then it occurred to me,
do words drown out our thoughts,
do thoughts drown out our vision,
does vision gets blurred in the sound?

Be as the pebble,
flow out of the rubble,
make peace with stillness,
for in silence we learn to be one with our own greatness.

She numbly sits in a ragged sleep shirt
Her life in tatters all around her,
Pieces scattered bent and broken
It’s cold and raining in her soul
And she lost her new umbrella.

Celebration banners flap in tatters
From the New Year party deemed long over.
Confetti pools in puddles at the curb
Staining rainbows in the murky water.
The echo of the midnight chime a memory.

Three hundred unfulfilling days await her
Should she stumble to her crippled feet
And stagger to the place that should be home.
But there will be no cocoa by the hearth fire
Or anything that might engage her mind
Except the fact that there will be no rescue.

Sitting numbly in her ragged sleep shirt
She has no thought of any better place
Available to someone with an injury like hers.
An wound that cripples ingenuity
And renders her unwelcome
In the tangled depths of her own mind.
        ljm

Too many bubbles in my life
Too many ding-dings on my phone
Too many engines on my train
Too many cobwebs on my plans.

Too much spinning around like a top
Too much tripping on my own two feet
To much hurry hurry in my day time
Too much worry worry in my night.

How can I expand the hours
How can I cross something out
How can I outrun the tick-tock
How can I survive this way.

So many questions - with no replies
So many efforts - so little gain
So many teardrops shed in vain
So many times I’ve said good-bye.
ljm

I sat by my morning table grieving
And feeling sorry for myself
When I glanced out the kitchen window
And spied a strikingly beautiful bird
Slowly pacing among all the pebbles
That cover the surface of my back yard.

His  head was iridescent purple and blue
Flashing in the wintertime sun.
He didn’t seem to be in a hurry -
Just taking himself a casual stroll.
Looking around as if on vacation
And seeing the sights in a wonderful place.

I had no idea where he might have came from
Or if there was a name for his breed.
I only knew I found him a pleasure
Who turned a sad and depressing hour
Into something healing and warm
That I will remember for more than a day.
ljm

Fate is a neon-lit pinball machine
And I am a little steel ball
Dodging the "tilt" sign as best I can
                                           ljm

He drove his honkin’ ******* truck through a single line of beautiful geese making their stately way along the road to a place they needed to go.  Traffic stopped to admire and take photos.   But the **** in the truck had a place to go and he intended to get there by the quickest way possible.
That way included  jumping out of backed up traffic, mowing down a dozen geese and going on his way.  He left them there on a bloodied road in the midst of the shocked bystanders, who tried in vain to save a few.  But all had flown to higher skies, and the geese still lined up on the road could only pause to see no hope, and continue on their way.  They didn’t fly and they didn’t cry in terrpr or in pain.  They continued on their steady march with broken ranks closed up behind them.
And where did the **** in his blood soaked truck end up that afternoon.  There was no place that required a cost be paid in gander’s lives. There was no meeting of such portent that a dozen birds must end their lives crushed beneath his wheels.
Was it urgency or savagery.  The answer is obscure but may be clarified in time when Karma or authorities make him stand up to recognize the beauty he destroyed, the watcher’s souls he seared in wanton waste of God’s creations.
Knowing that such brutality and evil so extreme can live among God-fearing people, kept hidden until useful, sends a burning chill down through my very soul.
ljm