Imagine an enchanted;

Yes!

Clearing;

A flourishing verdant
evergreen grove,

Raining
oxygen-filled particles
of Wish Light

A vintage letter falls
from the elder oak boughs;

Floating to your feet

Sonorously you read,

"Breathe
In
Deep"

Inspection leads some men
to brief resurrection,
But that course can also
lead to a defection.

There’s often some needing,
for a frenzy of feeding,
When we seek to feast,
on an ego that’s bleeding.

Is it real or some mirage,
lost in forest or garage?
So many casualties of truth,
how can we triage?

And this is that place
too well we all know,
that if you disagree
well that’s just your ego.

And right or wrong
you must submit,
Or be tossed from the circle
a dishonorable ****.

How is it we can be so blind,
to not see we are of a kind.
Who run about with desperate shouts,
without a mindful mind.

In the dark I see a wraith
Perhaps a remnant of our faith,
Ephemeral and tinged with rust
Forgotten father of our trust.

I’m not speaking here to thee,
what’s this paradox I see
But you said that, no I did not,
Oh, what a travesty!

Walk a mile in my shoes,
see for yourself what you may lose,
Perhaps you’ll find the fit so right
that it awakes you in the night.

And there you’ll lie and toss and turn,
amidst the loss amidst the burn
Oh, sad child who would not learn
Please say a prayer for me.

Clouds
sketching
synchronistic
footnotes
into the novelties
of the day

Tucking into the folds
of late August valleys

painted in vintage clover

falling toward winter

Ivory forms lazily turn mobiles overhead

As symbols,
as comfort
as bucket filled rain.

If only I wasn't such a freak then I could explore the world every day of the week.
being constantly stuck in this place I call home, I just sit and watch the other freaks roam.
all the normal people have someone to love, and I'm stuck here talking to the angels above.
maybe if I looked different I would get treated better, or pretty and famous then my fans would write me letters.
but normal is not absolutely in my inside, and I don't wanna act like something I don't define.
but it's okay to be different because different is better, whether it's pretty or not like an ugly sweater.
being a freak doesn't make you weak, being the same will always make you lame.
realize this cause this is who you are, and finding the truth isn't so far.

Uncertain times cause the heart to pound,
The mind wanders and just runs around.
Times seem tough and life seems down,
All amidst Corona and the Covid lockdown.

See it as an opportunity or see it as a curse,
Be a cribbing patient or a nurturing nurse;
It is all a matter of choices and words,
Life's a conscious choice of adjectives and verbs.

Glad that life gave us some time to reflect,
to get into our hearts and introspect.
on the choices we make and the way we live,
whether to carry grudges or to just forgive.

Whatever the case would have been,
I have got some time to be more keen;
to look back and read life’s story again,
the days of joy and the nights of pain.

Was it really caused by the external world,
or was I the sole cause of that swirl?
Now when I look back and think again,
I can clearly see the self-inflicted pain.

While I wait and see my life slow-down,
I feel a bit grateful to this lock-down.
For giving a chance to review and vet,
And save myself from a life of regret!

I now shall choose the gratitude route,
without any glitch or an inch of doubt.
By taking time each day to write-down,
of things that life has weaved around.

The beauty of nature, the chirping of birds,
the morning breeze and the walk in the woods;
I feel surprsied how I could not have found,
such jewels of nature which were always around.

I feel rather thankful to the this lockdown,
for it gave me the needed time to slow down.
To take corrective measures and look around,
and take a joy ride in life's merry-go-round.

Imagine raining in hell.
Does it ring a bell?