Last night I was sitting alone
Staring at the stars in the sky
Looking for your face shape
The face that always crossed my mind

Old memories that rewinded in my brain
Took me back to the first time we met
Introducing each others name
I smiled when you told me your name

That beautiful eyes you have
It's like everything stops when you stared at my eyes
I frozed for a while and just admiring that beautiful eyes of yours
I said to myself " God, am i talking to an angel? "

When you told me some stories of your life
I just want to sit and be quiet
Spoiling my ears
Enjoying a beautiful voice of yours

That scent of yours
It's like the smell of heaven
Makes me wonder that
Are you an angel that fall from the heaven?

You are God's most beautiful creation
It's like the " Nothing's perfect " myth is broken by your beauty
Turbulence of love that happened in my heart
Made me fall in love deeply

I even wonder sometimes
Am i deserve to feel all this miracle?
What've I done to get this honor?

Too perfect for a person
Too perfect for a soul
God's most perfect creation
Is you.

At sight, just this one bloom,
that spectacularly spreads,
it's warm purple petals wide
above us, like a big benevolent lotus,
causing  the magic of dawn and dusk,
day after day,indefatigably!
Galloping fast , then leading
to a day,turning it different
for each, an astonishing feat!
Closes at night, claiming  back
all radiance, he brought along,
in between  deftly he addresses
trillions of neurons at work  of every kind
all alone; simply phenomenal!

Isn't it an incredible everyday miracle?

But do we ever thank the wonder bloom
except the ancient sages who structured
a mantra* to praise his astonishing gifts.
Prime source of light for the humans, this!
a wonder one of a kind, he sure is,
well, till the day 'God decides
to play dice', yet again!

He picks up the pennies,
everywhere he goes.
Pieces of bigger things:
the fragments of the whole.
There never was a miracle
too small to behold,
and so he kept every one,
and every one made him bowed.
The others all around him,
seemed happy in their role,
but he knew only backache,
toil, and toll.
He carried his burden,
as vast as he, old.
Too large to conceal,
he never let it go.
He slept on coin pillows
the color of mold
and defended his treasure
with a vigor so bold
that ten men together
should endeavor to hold.

One day while counting,
the man, in his home,
heard a noise from the ceiling
that sounded of groan.
He dashed for his pennies,
as groan grew to moan
and was crushed under rains
of money he owed.

A moment, time that extends over
the horizon like an infinite second.
Today, past, and present, all choices
becoming one mashed up in timelessness,
and there are those who act like
it never happened, negating the miracle
innumerable times.

What it would come down to for us?
Fear can hold you. That leaves us here,
now, like this, denying the existence
of that flicker when our eyes met.

And how will they be living, our other selves,
in the alternate reality that was created then.
Will they be happier?

The teary rain could not hold back, nor
Hold in the torrent of tears
Just as the sound of the sea roaring
He wept

Enmeshed in the ever so scary black clouds
Imagining life beneath the earth
He raged on without mercy
Outpouring, crying, with no reservation;

In his rage, he looks on
To see small; little rather, creatures
Running helter skelter,
An evil grimace sits on his face
As he sends terror on Mankind

Rain;
In his glory
Peril awaits, dooms days, no mercy