In the life of a flower

It grew from seed, Sown underground
Tangible beauty, symbol of innocence,
Beautiful flower, brides head dress,
The feet of Gods, The coffin crown

My life, a still river

My life a still river, running to somewhere unknown,
My life a still river, turbulence, undercurrents, unshown
My life a still river, comrades come and comrades go
My life a still river, ever hurt only a ripple will show
My life a still river, once upon a time was full,
My life a still river, as drops divine did thirst fulfill
My life a still river, frivolous clouds drift away
My life a still river, a still river once again.

Love struck

We evolve. We become better. We reach what we aspire for and then aspire some more. And sometimes while we walk this path we find something that makes the sun friendlier on a sweltering hot summer day.That something I have found and that something I wish to keep for that something makes me walk a step above the ground and makes me feel so silly but in a completely fulfilling kind of way.This is the story of a pair of hands. One yours and one mine. Fingers entwined.This is the story of two pairs of eyes, as they meet and everything around dissolves into a colorful mist.This is the story of a look, a touch, a string of words that brings radiance into my life and all because I found you again.

Mist under the fountain

The day parched, my Skin burnt,
Battered by my latest storm I walked
Till a river long forgotten sprung forth
That mist under the fountain called you.

My body felt your soothing cool
I told myself, What fools mirage is this?
but you persisted and I believed
in that mist under the fountain called you

You see the dream ..... then you get there... its simple.

I like the life of a nomad. I go so far and see so much that my mind speaks to me a different language than the language i use with the world. I can almost touch what i want to be because the need to be that is so compelling that i see my destination materializing before my eyes. I test myself. Not because they want to test me but because I must be worthy of that dream for it to become mine.The race, they made it but i love it. It runs in my veins making each drop of blood race faster than the next. I feel nothing but the rush of adrenaline as i compete ... to make my tomorrow real.

Insecurity - does mine really belong to me?

I has a box of jewels,
So precious so rare,
I kept them safe and guarded,
Never shared, just kept and hoarded


I had little fragrance,
So soft and sweet,
Kept it closed, never used it,
It was my own personal treat
Then one day, i found love,
A love strong, precious and complete
I held it close, i tried to cage it,
It suffered, wilted, died..
i had killed it.
So heed what i say, darling sister,
For that which does not flow
is stagnant water,
let it go, let it fly,
trust it will return,
for what is yours is yours - else, it never was

Lost yesterday

We talk of the past and the future. Yet some of us, live for the past, in the past, with the past and in the hope that a precious past will someday come back. Irrational hopes. You wish, you dream, you star in mirages that are just that - mirages.But for those of us who claim to be futuristc.. can we really do that? Can you walk away for the events of the past, so calm, serene and unaffected that today will be a fresh new untarnished day.You wish.

That Connection

It was where i had not looked. In the most inconspicuous corner of the most secluded room. My mind reader. Often misunderstood. Sometimes unwilling to be himself not for fear of judgement but of the unknown unbeaten path. Then the jungle found us and the wilderness seduced us and we became slaves of the better life. The life of noinhibitions. We went where we went, now we go where we go. Just free...and it feels good.