Silence
inside a train
is the only sound
of life outside.

Along a road
a melody grows
flirting
with the countryside.

The river
wide and turgid
flows
to a relentless rhythm.

Sometimes
a flute plays
between rays of sunshine
and whispering winds.

Clouds swell
in a darkening sky
to the groans
of a sombre trombone.

Inside
listen to the rain
watch it slash
at the window panes.

Today I observed the flaming trees,
The flakes of gold drifting in the wind,
Like sleepy fairies,
And I thought,
I want to die like a maple,
die like an aspen in the fall,

as my strength is stripped away,
the underlying poetry of my veins is exposed,
and the tough skin peels back,
to show my unsung melodies,
Every note!

and it is a song,
blending beautifully with the cosmos,
Oh, that I would die like a tree,
when you see my barren body,
remember my last red moment,
full of auroreatic brilliance,

It begins with just a whisper,
A hint of murmur,
Some quiet tremor
Of warmth.

Growing stronger each moment,
The flutter turns into
A familiar song
Of tenderness.

The sound flows clearly now,
Gushing like waves on
A distant shore
Of silence.

An ethereal orchestra is already
Masterfully performing,
The rhythmic tune
Of affection.

And soon, the unbroken melody
Softly transforms into
The ageless symphony
That is a cat's purr.

The rhythm hits me first,
Off-beat, syncopated, unpredictable,
Yet I find my foot tapping in perfect time,
My body synchronised with an ever-changing pulse.

Then the bass,
Driving, moving forward, eager,
I find my legs moving with it,
My body pulled by a promise of more.

Then the chords,
Dissonant, unresolved, uncertain,
Yet my ears enjoy every one,
My body desperate to understand the logic behind them.

Then the melody,
Haunting, minor, hesitant,
Yet my eyes are drawn to those that sing,
My body overwhelmed with bare emotion.

Then the lyrics,
Hopeful, free, safe,
And I find myself singing along,
To a song I didn't know, but that resonates in my heart.

he had the his thumb on a string,
his words chased after the sunset;

the wind carried his melody -
and had this desire,
to dance,
but i couldn't.

fall was all around him and i,
and my dreams, atop a mountain.

It shines rarely
To a person that directly holds her  barely,
More and more she'll be notice
More and more she'll learn herself.
Just keep her tightly
Treasure it with tender love and care
Sometimes she's fragile to fall
Her clumsiness that makes her love deeply
The melody and tempo that she lovingly played,
With its music
With its strings
With its black and white keys
With a mark that hit the notes
Purely with sincerity
But often hopes to fear inside
Afraid of what may happen again
Wearingly hang on her pouted face
She maybe a messy person
Yet she is loved by everyone else
Or maybe

Just let her win this time
Just let her be...


And keep her closer to where she shines the most.

The shape
of blissful thoughts
float like melodies
in the breeze
as limericks of love
to Nacy and me.

There's nothing left
but expectations
and wet sand
on melancholy evenings
beside listless tides
and lengthening shadows.