The cloudy arena that spreads around

little dew drops on the pine leaf that i have found

Sweet cinnamon like fresh morning scent

that lingers through out the winter stretch.

Staring through the window pane

the sight of this mystical gallore

of the Winter Solstice that i adore.

The snow flakes that form a white cast

erasing the tracks from the past

pine cones that form a pile on the ground

and white little flowers  growing wild around.

Makes me hitched to the immortal gaze

of this winter solstice

it seems so quite and calm around

yet so perfectly profound

the breeze through the pines is the only sound

so cozy and snuggled appears every thing around.

As i step out to embrace this day

the winter binds me to its amaze

and i silently pray for this winter solstice to stay.


                                                                                 ~By Ashima

You said that I could find you
In the space that lies between
The reality that binds you
And the traces of your dream.

You asked me, "Can you dance
To a poem by Baudelaire?"
"La danse," said I. "C'est la poésie
Avec des bras et des jambes."

Your hands made a ballroom of my body
Your fingers tap-danced on my skin
Oh, and how I moved under your melody
Like a waltzing gypsy violin.

Center of all centers, core of cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet--
all this universe, to the furthest stars
all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.

Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,

a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.

I've seen the mountains
as the sun rises above the peak
I've seen the ocean
and the crest of a wave crashing down before me
But you,
My darling,
Are the most beautiful thing
I ever did see

lost musician
failure of a poet
and lover of things I cannot afford