It's at the wink of the eyes,
The sleep sliped out,
Awake to the world,
To wander and to lose.

At the flutter of the eyes,
You tried to beckon,
The sleep lost,
With dreamy halves.

You tried to erase,
The deep marks etched,
You tried to shut,
The brunts thrown.

At the blink of your eye,
Slowly the sleep seeps in,
Asleep to the world,
Awake to your mind.

Closing my eyes,
I feel every step,
Firm yet gentle
Marking my thoughts.

I retraced those steps
A circle where your little finger pressed,
I kissed the footprint and laid my face,
Careful not to disturb the lines I traced.

My breath warm,  
moist with tears
The sobs silent
For anyone to hear.

I wish for those hands to reach out to me,
I wish for those lips to tantalize me
I wish to have you close to me,
I wish you to be happy,  alongside me.

The shortest distance, I thought
Was between two hearts,
I only had to take a step,
And already there at your door step.

Several months,  your door shut,
I worked alone fearing distress...
Wearing a smile for the world to see,
Gripping the pain holding it within me.

You have your reasons for staying shut,
Not realising, you are inducing a cut,
I try to force myself closer,
You add more distance and walk further.

I am not used being without you,
I don't want to force more trouble on you,
I keep asking do I deserve this pain
But without you my life is vain...

I remain... Bearing pain..
Dawn or not,  I will remain,
Life or end,  I will continue,
Hoping your love will renew.

With love,
Hope

The cello
mother of music
sings peacefully
from the eye of the storm

A peace purchased
at the price of certitude

Piano provides counterpoint
restrained
elegant
its curtains of sound
dream their own dreams

and a longing violin
makes love to
the air itself

We march deliberately
to this tempo
stepping in time
to the sweet
and terrifying strains
of our own mortality

The composer
died
at thirty one years.
Why - how
have I lived so long?

Perhaps
to hear this music as if for
the first time
and so share it
with the sky.

A log cabin, I'd built for myself,
A make shift swing waiting to engulf,
I would like to wake up to my snore,
Only to snuggle deeper under my pillow...

Steaming mug of Coffee in hand,
Favourite books at the side stand,
A barbecue grill by the banks of the river,
With only few birds to share the pleasure...

Though time is frozen in this land,
It should be racing at the land of despair...
I wake up to the sound of alarm,
In a clumsy hole called my home.