Your words can be art
every line,
every rhyme
Every color that you paint can shine
Every picture builds life
Every verse brings magic
Every shared feeling inspires love
Every word gives breath to someone’s life
Poetry is more than words
It's about emotions and healing, your passions and feelings
Poetry is more
It’s your reflection, your power, your love, your life and inspiration
It’s about your strength, your life’s renewal and transformation
It’s about each other’s connection, purpose, and existence
Poetry is within you
Poetry is what’s there in your heart, in your soul

The moments in my life when I’ve been the happiest are the times when
I’ve seen the beauty of every sunset,
I’ve danced in the rain,
and when I’ve watched the flowers bloom

...with you

Luminous fireworks
Into the sea of silence
Stranger on the street

You calmed my heart with your words that sound like angelic hymns
Your unconditional love took me out of my own labyrinth
Thank you for your miracle of love
You have healed my broken wings

And he wrapped me up in his beautiful melody.
Love
Joy
Delight
and Contentment.

She bathes in the sun’s blazing rays,
still confused of what she is
She glides passionately as the moon goddess guides her shadow
She is intense, powerful, and radiant as the sun, yet playful, delicate, and precious as the moon
She adores her sun as it makes her ready to face her exciting days
Yet she worships her moon as it makes her strong to battle her cold,  lonesome, and lengthy nights
She is soft yet she has strength,
she’s fragile yet she’s tough
Her sun is her compass but her moon is her light
She has her sun, she has her moon
She then remembers, she is a bud ready to bloom

Wrapped by just her flesh and skin with nothing on, half-awake on her silky fabric bedsheet
She watched him walk slowly towards the door in his torn jeans and tight shirt
With a quiet gaze and a tender smile, he gently waved goodbye
In and out of her vision, his retreating figure shimmered
She must have trembled because he stopped
He smiled, walked back and passionately whispered while caressing her curves
“Please forgive me!
Please forgive...
my hands for always wanting to touch you
my lips that are burning to kiss you
my arms that are dying to embrace you!”
Her guardian angels clapped in awe as he asked again for gentle kisses
Then they swam together in furious waves, merging into the vast glimmering ocean
They were beautiful whales dancing in their own song
Then they found calmness as they reached close to the seashore
As they began to drown themselves again in melodies of the ripple waves
She forgot and suddenly realized
Waking up in a middle of a poem, she was fooled by her own metaphor

And we frolicked with our arms entangled
under the stunning gleam of the moonlight.
With the diamond waterfalls as witness,
dreamy as the rainbow,
cascading solace in our thoughts.
We’re out of the gushing downpour.
though we still hear and feel the water.
Exalting how we climbed
the higher and steeper trail
with dangerous cliffs in thousands,
we continued to hold hands.
With even a tiny bit of love but a ton of hope,
we eradicated fear
and let the light come through.
Merging us again into one!
Reshaping,
transforming,
mending,
stitching every hidden torn and burn.

I am trying to find the proper time to write
the ending that I have tried to forget.
Just allow me to re-read the past chapters that made our story beautiful.
In time, I would be able to transform the pain of our past into a wonderful  epilogue.

And the magic stays within her.
Nesting in her ardent spirit,
throbbing in her veins.
It shows up in her tangled mane,
her sunny smile, the sparkle in her eyes.
It’s in her yearning for the evening sun, her walks under the stars and her dance rituals with the wind.
Her magic lives in the corner of her
beautiful broken heart
when she mingles with the fireflies in the woods.
It’s in the way she lays awake,
robed with autumn leaves
under the breath of the moon.
How she hums her prayers in darkness.
Magic is her love and dreams.
Magic is in her flawed heart and scarred soul.
Magic lives in the very fabric of her true self.

And she turned chaos to magic.
She made her shattered pieces a beautiful art.

I heard the call of the old trees,
so I took my tired heart for a walk in the woods.
Peace, healing and energy embraced me.
I rode the wind again and gladly found my spirit of optimism.
The sounds of the water, the birds singing, their magical rhythm gave me power.
The delights of summer.

Sometimes the simplest of things spark memories.
Memories of great importance in our lives.
Every moment and each event in our past planted something important in our soul.

Sitting under the prismatic sky,
With my heart so broken,
my eyes shut,
barely catching my breath,
and silently chanting a beautiful prayer.
Though the autumn leaves began to sob with me,
the birds of paradise
welcomed you with love.
We’ll keep the fondest thoughts,
the wonderful memories,
You may now dance there in heaven.
There, amongst the angels.

And I found a new piece of myself today.
Tiny pieces I discover each
day in every experience.
Grief, anger, and hurt.
Strength, understanding,
and love.
Still,
I will care as long as I can.
Pouring life and love in everything,
to everyone.
I will be water.
Flowing
Pure
Soft
Calm

And the sun glints through the plum trees.
My heart is pierced
in a moment of anticipation
and silence.
A sudden reflection of beauty, longing, and pain blurred my eyes.
A quick revisit
to an old memory of paradise.
Where I’ve been an enduring captive of a sorrowful rewind.
But I remained a seeker.
A seeker of the promises
of perseverance.
While I adore winter
as I see snow trinkets around.
I love and cherish
the herald of spring.
And as the pale pink plum blossoms bravely bloom
amidst the winter chill,
I will continue to seek
for fruitfulness.
Though I’m still a slave
of bitterness and grief,
I will try to celebrate my strength.
With plum blossoms as a reminder of a not-so-distant spring.
A time for hope, a moment of joy,
and a season of new beginning.
Blooming beautifully after overcoming difficulties.

And so I tear the last love letter you gave me and decided to let it go.
I stand and watch as the gusty winds blow the paper far away.
The promises of love and forever,
the vow of happily ever after,
the guarantee of a lifetime together.
The commitment of faith and the covenant of love that I kept too long.
I stare at each tiny piece of paper  swallowed by the violent sky.
I’m left alone.
Yes, I’m left alone with just a memory.
I’m left alone.
But I’m left alone with a smile and a promise of a new me.
A new me without you.
A new hope for a new story.
For I’ve already thrown my past behind.
And I’ve let go of my hope for your return.
Slowly and one step at a time, I’m moving on.
I am moving forward without you.
While waiting to be held by the right hands.

And he believed
and found the magic in me
Then flew me into his floral wonderland
He held my hand
and lit the torch
The hope I’d use to light
the darkness of my thoughts
A bright beacon to tame my beast
A gardener unafraid to touch my heart of thorns

And like me,
he gets enlivened when nature metamorphoses.
He dances with the ocean waves and gapes at the splendid, scarlet sunset.
He enjoys the ripe air with the pleasant dewy petrichor,
and adores the bespangled night sky.
Would my ancient peculiar rhythm meet his empathetic heartbeat?
Maybe.
If he could immerse in my murky depths.
If he’d help me journey through
this twisted path,
from a thorny to a glorious trail,
from the grotesque to the sublime.

Dear passionate thoughts
See the blue hydrangeas bloom
Rains and misery

These eyes, which had seen more,
came back with a smile,
back to you my dear,
my dear white chrysanthemum!

What is more atrocious than any bombs nowadays
are the insults and hatred we hurled at each other as humans!

Gazing at your different faces
in my pile of photographs.
Remembering the rhymes
I used to carve in those smiles.
Reliving the affection and delight
I used to see
in those luminous eyes.
These words I tried to write
for this unfinished poem,
With my heart in fragments
and my soul cut open and torn,
I will now have to say goodbye.
For you have willed that tiny hope into stillness,
And with the flame I long adored
started to flicker,
These last lines
I needed to pen in bitter darkness,
“Goodbye, my love.
Please take with you
the memories of me!”

She decorated
her pain and her misery
with red fallen leaves

Lost in the passage of despair and confusion,
Tangled up in the horrors of the past,
Caught in a web of endless stupor,
The unseen whirls of sombre silence,
Her silhouette blended again in dimness,
Fallen.
Faded.
...

He came like a wind,
whispered music in my ears,
swiftly brushed my lips,
then brought cold creeps to my skin,
lulled me and just disappeared.

My dreamland’s gateway
opens up a gorgeous field of flowers
And there at its center proudly sways
In stripy purplish-pink is a handsome wildflower
I do adore those wild and free
though I love all kinds of blooms and hold no preference
And when I saw him in his fragrant sanctuary
I felt a kind of reverence
And among those beauty of its kind
I surely won’t forget
The sweetest moment when he smiled
The wondrous time when we’ve first met

She wears a mask of ease and tranquility
to cover her suffering and pain
She dons her mask of courage
to hide her failures and fears
She puts on her mask of confidence
to cloak her shame
Though reluctantly she keeps her mask on
and disguises to show an illusion of fulfillment, happiness,  and success
Day in, day out she slips on a mask
and cloaks herself in disguises
Her bright and colorful mask is a reminder
of her need for the approval of others
Yet her glowing fancy cloak pulls her away
to her true self and hides her real heart and identity
But one day she finally paused,
she closed her eyes and then she realized
Pretending to be someone she isn’t other than herself does not make her worthy and happy
Her understanding of herself and her flaws matters
Her deepest desires and passion to accept herself blossom
She begins to release herself from the layers of life’s loathing and hypocrisy
Throwing away her mask
Imperfect and flawed, she embraces herself happily

I have always thought of you as a battle I needed to win.
But, are you a war worth fighting?

Your words are like flowers
blooming for the first time
in the early days of spring.
Charming
Mesmerizing
Glorious
Like the light pink pretty petals spilling into the winds,
whispering intensity and sweetness.
I find myself blushing and gliding.
With your rhymes sending me into a lovely realm,
I am now in your fairyland.

I watched the sun touched the ocean today.
It brought its radiance to the water.
Then I saw the water played with colors.
Gold, aqua, green, orange, and blue,
so lovely in different hues.
The thoughts of the ocean reminded me of us.
Our sunny days and stormy skies.
Cries, dismays, laughters, dreams, and smiles.
Black and white,
dark and light.
Darkened days and silvery nights.
But love has always led,
lighting the pathways to understanding.
By loving with the fullness of our heart,
we found its bliss, its beauty, and its blessing deep within.
Let’s continue to live on dreams and hopes.
And together herald in the mystical wonders and joys,
where dayspring has no end,
where flowers burst in ever glory and splendor,
even years after we’ve lifted our first silver hair.

Beautiful morning
in the great company of
daisies and lilies

Seasons do not compete with one another;
neither does the night’s magical brilliance of the moon rival with the gorgeous majestic sunrise.
The persistent, melodious rains do not clash with the rainbow’s splendor.
Nor the dreamy perfumed clouds race with the joyful, pleasant winds.
Beautiful things happen in the right perfect time.

I earned your contempt just
because I did not march to your music.
You sentenced me to hell
because I did not sing with you.
You even questioned my social philosophy
and even my religious conviction.
I will not ever return the hate and the contempt.
But however many holy words you speak, read, write and believe; it is useless unless you value human service and kindness.

To teach, to help a stray animal, to smile and assist a stranger, to work for your family, to plant trees, to give to the needy—these activities do not need explanation about theology.
Every one of these just needs anyone of us,
as humans—to reach out, to give a lending hand,
to care and to believe in the existence of faith and humanity.

I had mistakes, wrong choices, troubles, failures, losses and fears in the past that taught me lessons and flared my passion
to seek spiritual guidance.
I went astray but I listened to my inner voice that helped me back on track.
I’d still probably be in the darkness had I not known how to cultivate my emotional side.
The guides, the path, the doors
will be different for all of us.
But a lot of our spiritual encounters happen in the ordinariness of our daily life.

My spiritual moments have not just happened when I closed my eyes.
They happened when I cuddled my kindergarten students in school and when I watched the water flows in the river
and the birds sing.
They continue to happen when I do long distance parenting and do  
my duty as a mother,
when I smile and greet my neighbors
and even when I admire colors everywhere.

The world has many colors my dear,
beautiful colors and I have the profoundest respect to even the bleakest and the lightless.
Let us be inspired by the plants who come together and thrive peacefully in a garden.
Let’s see beyond our beliefs and differences and embrace each other’s colors and uniqueness to add beauty to our existence.
My friend, the way we give the gifts of faith, humanity, kindness, friendship and love to the people around us is how we save the world.

Her eyes sparkled with delight
as she rambled in her yellow dress
woven by the sun.
She giggled as she began to ascend the narrow path to her fairyland.
She stopped to admire the wildflowers
starting to pop along her favorite trail.
She reached her destination
proudly with a smile.
The woods opened its arms wide
while the river embraced her tight.
She gazed at the red spider lilies scattered
on the ground.
She remembered what she read
about the equinox flowers in front of her.
The red blanket of color means death,
sadness and loss.
That thought suddenly turned the red color
to a tinge of nostalgia, separation and pain.
Then she looked closely at the gorgeous landscape.
With a fine day and a cool weather,
the thick grasses gladly held
the dancing fireballs.
She then realized that the bright red flowers beautifully blossomed after the rains.
They were proud warriors
who appeared from the underworld.
Tough and virtuous, they marched
and tried to reach the bluest sky.
The radiating blooms brought her peace, passion, tranquility and strength.
With the red spider lilies as nature’s enchanting signal that summer is coming to an end.
She let go of the grief and resentment.
The red flares set her free,
that life is just what it is meant to be.
She let go of the pain and sadness.
With love and faith, the red spider lilies marked the coming of her favorite season.
A promise of a new horizon and a testimony of joy after a raging storm.

In the darkest hours,
grief is overpowering.
The stars,
fade.
The moon,
dull.
This grief.
Drowning me in waves.

She’s poetry and scars,
blossoms and thorns,
diamonds
and shards of a shattered glass,
a siren who scatters love like fairy dust.

She’s into ravens and dragons,
charms, prayers and spells.
Enchantment and mystery,
spirits and fantasy.
Phantom and magic,
dreams and stardust.
She’s into fascinating connections,
rituals and meditations.
She gives thanks to the sun,
the stars and the moon.
She trusts patience and love.
She adores understanding souls,
She’s into all these
and a thousand things more.