do i think of interactions myriad
that crying causes when giving tears?
do i analyse my emotions and period,
the synaptic connections between the ears?

why then do i separate earthly rumble,
the earthquake, volcano, the earth crust crumble,
from the inner sigh that permeates
the earth's gyrations' dire straits?

why are we deaf to the inner language,
the pain, expression, the spiritual anguish,
why do we dwell on science, logistics,
on physical mechanics, theoretical heuristics?

one tear, it is said, in the sea is shed,
a tear of pain of all mankind,
a tear of pain as blood that's bled
from carotid vein from heart to head

that tear causes the mountains to tremble,
the typhoons, tornadoes, and earth dissemble,
it's a tear of fear, of fright, of dread,
a tear that fears that love is dead.

it's a tear that waits, that longs to hear
the beating heart of humankind,
that's still awaiting one single tear
from human heart and human mind.

A tear that one day will turn to delight,
when man embarks on bold emprise
to seek the G-dliness that's in full sight
if only humanity would open its eyes.

knock, knock
who's there?
no answer
couldn't care

knock, knock
back again
door's still locked
on latch 'n chain

knock, knock
who's there?
open lock
trepid stare

i see a wave in the air
tugs a memory in my heart
an empty whisper, empty air,
i was of you, a part apart

once a soul within you lodged
it breathed, it dreamed, it felt, it prayed,
it cried with bitterness when you dislodged
G-d from your heart to stray in shade

so now at times i knock on door
but you're so blind, you see no more,
you keep the door shut so tight,
inside you're black, dark as night

when first i peeked from the ground,
clothed and swathed in viridescence
chlorophyll succulence all around
reflecting sunlight's iridescence

as ballerina's pirouette
as ice skater's loop and twirl
as fiery sphere in dark sunset
as spinning top's whirl 'n swirl

as emanating baby's head
as spirit rising from the dead
as crystal gem in golden set
as sacred dome of white lunette

i emerged with head clasped tight
with green fingers as stalagmite
loom'd from earth in silver wonder
as lightening strikes in silent thunder

as sun bequeaths its golden treasure
as peacock sprays its blue-green feathers,
I shyly let my flower grow,
my lemon crown, with spokes that flow

shameless as a clown's false grin,
painted crimson on plaster'd chin,
sparkling like a whiskied gin
'fore the room starts to spin

swaying in the woodland breeze,
amongst green rifles set at ease,
move in unison as waves of seas,
as strokes of paint on artist's frieze

then, one night, as i lay still,
beheld a change in moonlight chill,
as halcyon petals withered and died
white fibres midday opened wide

crystal spheres of ghost alabaster
speckled as sugar and salt in caster,
of pearl 'n ivory, ball o' moonstone,
as pail of milk, as polished bone

clocks of flying feathers and fluff,
fairies' parachutes, children's puff,
seed in seat of air balloon,
to plant in dune my nature's boon

a moonbeam touched the earth one night
it shone through window and skylight
it danced from roof to tree to ground
it lanced the cat and dog and hound

it spread its palest silver light
as one who walks with royal right
with quiet dignity, declared its might
in secret whisper, with no fight

it bathed me with its pearly crown
it wrapped me in its ermine gown
it swooped me up and laid me down
in softest feather'd eiderdown

in wordless voice said mystery,
bereft of cunning or witchery,
there laid clear its history,
orbit of Earth periphery

its waxing waning faceless orb
reflecting light in night's absorb
revealing hidden lantern true
the shine of day in heaven's blue

but more than mirror, i am the soul
of inner yearning, want and goal,
i am the softness in the night
that makes you dream, that makes you write

i am the magic that shines a path
in desolation of war's wrath,
who speaks the badgers and otters' tongue
who comforts babes, and nature's young

i am the cry of lonesome one
ere the light of day's begun
who dreads the hour of dawn's on-come,
the herald of day in rising sun

i am the silent witness of
oppression without love
i am a link in stillness of
your chain to the Above

Some of us feel worthless,
hard to breathe living on the surface.
No matter what hurts us,
never forget what is your purpose.

And you're always worth it.

The long fights,
Worth in winning the small battles
The long nights,
Shine together through the lonely shadows.

Life's battleground
where you stand,
Upon each battle we've won,
come out of them smiling glad.

Remember, you're not the only one.