Every flower in this garden is laden with star dust
if the eyes that see can travel a bit far in time,
each cell,  remember, is a fractal, a microcosm,
death and immortality, in it encapsulated
Shiva's dance of ecstasy seems to bring
disintegration, beginning of a new cycle of creation,
each moment is in a flux, you and me  and all others
are the ingredients of steaming cosmic soup.
                            
You are my impermanence most kindly defined
complement written in the poetic cadence of feminine,
exact to the appropriate meter, rhyming pattern, perfect
dance of alliteration and at times beauty of truculence,
I am a blank verse, keeping infinity contained
in the only way possible, captured in its grand simplicity
pearls of zen gleaming all over, the intuitive sense
of internal rhythm reigns, touching the primordial boom
music to the soul in frequencies higher, unknowable
reverberating through the cosmic star dust refulgence.

As light grows brighter and journeys call
Remember the voice that whispered it all
Wisdom of words, reason of voice
Devoted by true love, never by choice

As sun rises, yearning buds bloom
Be patient, her caress will groom
A soul to stand through winds of strife
And bestow to us a better life

As sun sets, shadows loom
Stay keen for darkness soon
Will take by hand, a withered stem
and forever place it in a far away land

At journeys end, night will fall
Only a lingering fragrance to remind us all
Wisdom of words, reason of voice
Devoted by true love, never by choice

Footprints

I saw footprints in the snow
I had to follow where they go
Tip toe'd in every step
To keep my feet from getting wet

Over Hilltops, through valleys
And forests of pine
I traveled and traveled
Snow blind to time

When the footsteps ended
It was once again spring
I traveled the world
and hadn't seen a thing

Stranded by the shores
of vast oceans blue
With very little hope
and nothing to do

Except watch pirates
catch mermaids
With lassos of gold
And dolphins tell stories
Of days of old

As all seemed lost
What did I see
That sent a wave of hope
Crashing over me

I saw footprints in the sand.....

When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

She was so generous
that she left me with innumerable sorrows.

I was so selfish
that I couldn't give her anything but Love.



El egoísmo    

Ella era tan generosa
Que me dejó con incontables penas.  

Yo era tan egoísta  
Que no le pude dar nada excepto amor.

I can't write like you do
I can't really compose
Grace has always eluded me
In movement and in prose

You write of such big things
But they are still all the same
Me? I can't really toy
With ideas so insane

I'm not a professional wordsmith
My art hasn't been trained
When I write, the words flow easy
Unabashed and Untamed

You and your words are sculpted
Precisely, with finesse
But with a subdued gloss and lack luster
So twisted so suppressed

And now I see my dear self
Finally in a clear way
Not in my movements or in the glass
but on my inked page

So if you ask me, dear self
Which cage do I choose?
I'd choose my dented brass one
Instead of your golden noose.

To excel is like climbing a mighty mound
So dreary it seems trudging the desolated road,
But I've grown too weary doing inconsequential things.
Lazy to walk, craving for a comfy abode.

Though it's only disinterest that crosses my way
Like a torrent of the mountain creek,
Drowning me in trifling thoughts,
making my journey all the more bleak.

Hope I could find a tree along,
Bloomed with evergreen pomes
Of passion and perseverance.
I'd love to nibble at them for sure,
And regain my lost endurance.

I know I could transcend my limits
And ascend this arduous rock,
If only I took the first step
And started to walk.

Can you really see everything?
If I laid myself in front of you, would you know?
Could you reach out to grab my heart,
Or only grasp what was meant to be shown?

Can you really see everything?
If I stood beside you, could you tell?
Could you place your tender hands upon mine,
Or only cover what wasn’t hidden well?  

Can you really see everything?
If I presented my last breath to you, would you grieve?
Is everything shown before you what must be true,
Or is that what the world wants you to believe.

In the dark, we are all nothing.
What once had an identity, now only what remains.
We are only something when the light chooses to show us,  
Without it, we are just part of the unknown, we are all the same.

So tell me now, can you really see everything?