I am the wind going out and not coming back


39

Earth flows away from the shores
where I am standing I can only see
mountain and stars, the sky as night
is growing smaller with a distant shine

I as the light, miss the trees and grasses
the various people who must bear
their distress swaying like a broken flag
I who was once terrified to be alive

can now rest in feeling the oceans
Earth’s children and long-stemmed flowers
will have to do their own thing without me
men were given the earth only once

and once they took her down for cities
when will the Earth be free of him, I cannot say
though I am not glad that man’s love is as bitter
as treacherous as stealing greed, mining ores

the profit of the weary mouths of mortals
Earth flows away from the minds
she was so perfect to you a circumstance
environments enduring, climates wandering

at twilight, like butterflies in the wind
dawn lived over apple and cherry trees
a cradle for the grain your ancestors ate
I as the light, do not miss the destruction

of man’s plight to control and seize wealth
cleanse me of this animal’s untrue songs
man was not taught by the earth to hunt himself
war taught him that and pitiful leadership.

Photography Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Red-autumn-in-Ukraine-413395922

In every flake that flies wide wandering skies


1

Leaves will rain the end of years
A pageant death-parting
O’ Autumn, it’s my soul

That gives you ear & listening
And hence who once was here
Cannot be forgotten yet –

My held breath in the day’s decline
Leaves will wash away what
Was once the blown night and day

Leaves and rain till the year’s flooding end
Your cheek against mine, the watery-way
With tears and of the blown night

The doom that waves her secret sign
Against my death, was my life in vain?
Adieu, waving last whispering of trees

Leaves will rain my last remaining years
With colors that will breeze to you?
Would ye ever wave an Adieu, for forgetfulness

Is coming so take flight all worries
What do you say to the breeze?
And what in that hush, say the breeze to you?

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dance-Me-to-the-End-400908151

We All Arrived from Grandmothers


3

How noteless is this life
The Real is an instinct of locality
All a question of proximity
And sense to spirit integration

I’ve forgotten all odes familiar
Whims to bloom, and buttercups to smell
I’ve spurned Daises and rules of Noon
With Recollection of your numbness

How irreverent and cordially anonymous
Is every moment from the next
That fancy and sunrise
Are simply doors left ajar

This world a simulation of requests
That you disdain men, and I find women
Like Oxygen, necessarily toxic.

Hafiza Sundered Hope


2

Unbroken as a new settler
I was a guest of Infinitude
With some weeks & months
To teach you, the triumph of the Birds

My soul that asked your shelter
Adored by my solemn honesty
I entered your Dining Room hopes
But only could offer you crumbs

The sunrises scattered me
You wished I would part
So I left with the little dignity
In my small library of hope

I left a bookmark to your name
The humble fuel, for the poetry of a lifetime.

So Long Foreshadowed Days Have Come Around


12

We grew a hundred years in age
In a few months of love’s highs and lows
We died in our gentleness
And came alive in the silver cracks
Of our passionate connection

Thunderous tidings from your lips
Where I went sobbing home, imploring God
To make you grow fond of me, to utmost chilling
I fell by my Muse’s gaiety and zest
With too much useless art for your pragmatic tastes

I live to mourn and love in verse
Since you came and left, I having nothing now
But a more wicket heart that bears regret
In frozen winds and the itch of spring
Summer’s pageantry will hopefully hasten to admit

That I’m still alive , though I have been dead
I aged in months of crying sleep and tragic songs
Half up the slope of too much feeling
Where lovers do not come, and I must sit alone
As if in the dusty lashes of a lingering solitude.

Eros in Retreat


7

I am waiting for my white butterflies
Summer’s babble of small noises
Where I can feel insignificant again
Behind crickets and proofs of God

I’m hoping that timely intervals
Will save me from this grief
Amidst the healing weeks
Of mourning and mornings

I have the patience of heart-breaks
That fly with delicate wings
Of youth’s love-sheath so tender
Bemused by nature’s glory

I am waiting for my sampled flowers
That have no flaw, but their unchanging beauty
That diamonds are only accomplished
After eternities, epochs long enough

That they forget what they once were
I am waiting for my single aims
To be accomplished in-between
The death of memories, it shall be sweet

To no longer recall who I have been
Or why art mattered, why love was cruel
And how the seasons fell, little squire anti-climaxes.