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Sally A Bayan Jul 2019
Under a shady Banyan tree,
i am a unicorn, my lone horn is shining,
front hooves raised, set to gallop, to help
dreams and desires to materialize...
on another day, i'm a silver-haired erudite,
amidst scrolls and volumes of  tomes,
pondering on THAT, which ruffles my waters,
and defies what i've known, what i believe in;
i'm challenged, i pursue the topic.....i write,
and when pleasance rules.....verses swell...
however, when my mind is drought-driven,
and my days fail me, i become a banshee,
wailing my inadequacy,
warning myself...of worst days coming...
there's nary a line, or a verse to celebrate
when exists, this poverty, in poetry......
i see a poet sailing on either one of two rivers
one always moves on...wind tiptoes on its
surface, its ripples are soldiers marching on...
the other river is snagged...flows off and on;
but, water always finds, creates new paths,
eventually, it times, it overflows...
the urge to write is water to the poet,
touching his/her toes...always reminding,
there's plenty to write, out here...
you suddenly hear rain hitting roof like nails
or, the neighbor's car revving up, the smoke
and noise ruin your morning irks you,
giving way to an angry 10-word....or haiku...

in poetry...bad and good days occur, whether
near, far, or under a shady Banyan tree....


Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 4, 2019
( "Under a shady Banyan tree" is a cozy, comfortable place,
   where i write, or just reflect..where inspirations are birthed.)
Spiralize Sep 2018
As it's always been
For the world to see
Crystal ball,
I have been admiring
In the light,
Paths are shown..

The king looks old
Rays of light,
Passing through him
Crown he's been gifted
In the light,
Paths are shown..

Dark clouds,
Cover the light
The winds,
Push them away
Sliver of light,
Comes blazing again
In the light,
Paths are shown...
And you and I are still
Young enough to really live.
We are simply melding
Into another season of emotion.
?The years are just beginning
?To gray what they have claimed
?And have been allowed to claim.
The wind blows away what it can--
What cannot be tied down.

??Keep whispering
Your soul into my soul.?
Keep primal scream tears          
?Falling into my primal soul.

??Keep filling up the empty spaces.?
Keep creating empty spaces.?

Tearing down the vacant walls.?
Building up new walls.?

Opening locked doors.?
Locking others in turn
As we forever transform together
?Under the aegis of the Immortal

??As I grow like the roots
Of the banyan tree?

Hanging down with the branches
Helping to provide shelter
?As I slowly grow closer
To the sweet earth?
In silent anticipation.
Finally touching her.?
Slowly penetrating her.
?Gently pushing deeper
?Until we are of one purpose
Deeply rooted by the banks
Of the Eternal Zoe River
That descended from heaven
And flows through
Human spirit transformed.?

Life-giving water running slow
And deep the source of your whisper--
True essence in deepest longings

??Flowing into my source
Pockets of holy energy overflowing
?Slowed down to a trickle at times ?
Going full circle and
                                     Back and forth
?From out of reach channels.

??That something deep beyond the
                                 Starry masses.?

That something some call love.
That something some call God.?

That something flowing & living
                                  In you and me.

                --Daniel Irwin Tucker

— The End —