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Essence and colors of twilight
ceased my heart,
yet, still I have looped
on your thinking, my darling

Snowflakes have covered the trees
underneath cold wind blows from north
my spirit become low,
what a teach of the nature!

Darkest horizon what it has meant,
that threats my nights and days-
stars have blended, apart from hopes
clouds are whirling on drifted edge,

Dreams have broken,
run with autumnal cloud
I can rather want to you,
my darling

As alluring attention that dies,
with illusion and hallucination

The last, ever and forever,
my confession

I will die with a claim
of romantic torment,
‘O' darling and you will face,
the rude reality at the end -

@ Musfiq us shaleheen
romantic torment: Actually a romantic poem
We all have a secret tune
Humming away within
Whistling away with glee
Each note so special
Writ all over our heart
Inspiration so unique
No music maestro is privy
Tuned with our heart
It’s our own masterpiece
I am not great,
only a little bit huge.
I soar not at my choice;
something is there inside me
that lifts me up,
that brings me down.
so, I never cherish ego
and this is essence
of my beautiful life for you.
Seize each golden hour
Living only for today
Cherish each moment


~Hilda~
© Hilda July 30, 2014
Forgive me dearest for my childlike ways;
Those dormant traits which never seem to die.
Forgive my foolishness and futile days,
Although when seized how quickly seem to fly!
A word well intended uttered in haste;
A cup of cold water spilling as tears.
Each dream shattered as days blend into waste.
Unspoken thoughts hampered by icy fears.
Nor am I gifted with spirit mature
Able to gratify impulse or whim.
Some enjoy life so capable and sure
Untainted by cold nature's hand so grim.
Thus musing upon grey veiled tomorrow
May we refrain from worry to borrow.

**~Hilda~
© Hilda 8/10/14
Theravada or Zen?

It used be Theravada
Little did I know of Buddhist scrolls
Just a couple of commandments
obsessed with death
and a-clinging to enlightenment
Everything I did was with dharma and importance

Then it went to Zen, anything goes
absurdist, all for enlightenment
except overly polite ritual hymns
What’s up with that
when you don’t fear death?

Now I’m sort of back to Theravada
With a hint of roots Zen, Bodhidharma
But devotedly, I’ll take none of it all
Why believe in enlightenment?
Just appreciate the fall
changes

...**** It
Little hands.
Like mother.
And a cheeky smile
Like me.
I'm so proud to be
Your father.
No-one means
So much to me.
Written for my 3 year-old son.
Out of every song*
That God has ever sung
First and foremost among them all
You are his favorite one

For you are the poetry of God
His best to grace the stage
Out of all of his creation
His favorite in what he's made

While nature proclaims his glory
It is man in whom he delights
Taking the dust with hands of love
And breathing in the poetry of life

Out of all the wonders in this world
That so clearly can be seen
The miracle of man by Gods own hand
*Is you, his poetry
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