Breathing in Life

ive walked many paths, seen many faces, heard the rain fall upon countless streets. 

i see the reflection of the one who is I, each time i breathe into my mind's eye. indeed with these shifting variables, in these changing times, i have come to know this soul, hosted within this body.

i cherish the paths that have brought me closer to my breath, the faces formed with gratitude that offered me Spiritual health, and the subtle sensuality of rainfall, as it continues to vibrate over my body. 

i cherish life: ordinary moments, special moments, lasting moments,

jubilation,

a bouquet of celebration..

love, laughter, it's all medication.

indeed one thing i request of life as i write of mine in this brief tale of human tenderness, is simply that my heart be made into a bonfire and used as sunshine for the lives of all on earth who make the world go round. 

and around. 

and around.

namaste.

SYNESTHESIA

I had a bowl of biryani last nite.

The South Asians, they must have built the first temple of flavors, is what I thought;

What I thought as I unwrapped the assortment. 

An assortment of hearty flavors. 

Just as good for teasing eager taste buds, 

As it was for sweeping the insides of nasal pass-ways.

Biryani connects me to my Indian roots; 

Roots that I’ve both lost and found, that I have left behind in the past.

And that I hurry to meet in a distant time. 

The aromas and flavors of India are, to me, 

Likened to the fine crystals of the earth that activate our souls. 

The amethyst is both wild and refined: taking me on a ride into the northern alps, 

Seen through the iris and retina of a wild mountain goat. 

But it's that much more.

Such is the sensation of INDIA and her lofty promises of adventure and synesthesia.

In a hallway abounding with India’s Aromas, the Titan and the Farmer, 

They meet, they greet, they sit down as equals, and eat.

Friendships Lost.

Where have you been?

This friendship that crowns my flaws with a little esteem.

Why do you hide?

This soul that dissolves my fears with a touch of pastel colored dreams.

Journeying within, I find many streets to escape a loneliness so broad, so deep, Calculated in the way I’m exposed to woeful extremes.

I find many streets, but on none of these do I find you.

Indeed, I miss you.

I am uncommonly fragile, you see.

I fear for the way my heart beats, sparingly...

My breath travels, reluctantly...

The clock left me at noon and found me at midnight, retelling the same old tales of you.

During these hours, my heart labored to stay awake in the sparseness of its landscape. Just to lay its love on you.

My telling became less hurried; my delivery, forceful. 

Determined, you see, to keep the flame of your gorgeous memory, 

Dancing with the wind.

You were an exemplary Gardner of the heart.

You kept weeds at bay with your tenderness and medicine words.

We had good laughs...We were our sustenance for a good heart.

With me, you were pretty certain of one thing, a peace--in mind.

This peace, my dear one, that I seek to find, now that you're gone.

Where have you been?

Look in my heart, and you will find the streets I, however, have hidden in.

mainstay

your soul will always be the same.
 
i wonder what you look like these days.
times have changed, the world's a new place. life's left its markings on our face.
prayers you say for a world crashing in wild fire - in a haze - roll off your tongue, concealed by your talk of pies and sugar and spice.. the things a harmonious world might like.
i hear the remorse in your voice - sorry for a world that took this turn.
in your eyes, do you register struggle or faith?

i do, i wonder what you look like these days.. 
once, i was witness to what seemed like an everlasting fountain of youth.
you wore it so well: honey to a bee, lilies to a field... but those were days of old.
your best shot at life was all that you were giving. and those who knew you by name, knew most definitely that on that day that the world knew your name, you dove headfirst into its terrain.

your soul will always be the same.
wrinkles and scars, attest to your attention to your heart. 
i seek you out today - cuz the world needs you as a mainstay. 

agape. (raw & unfinished)

You do a criss-cross on my mind, and I know you're there.
Your love transports me to fields of fascination and rare bred beauty.
I couldn't ever resist.
Paying homage to your lineage, i'm left astounded by the statutes of power that adorn you.
A punctured heart still beats in your presence. Oh, how I adore you.
An Auteur commissioned to reinvent our passions, shall only find God.
This kind of love crescendos to distant heights.
I will take you in my arms through the night and shelter you from the nightmares that visit.

POETRY iN MOTION, coming soon!

The Future of Our World

We've come to this day, a day once named tomorrow by humble beginnings.

We have come to this day, a day we so eagerly wanted to see.

This is the future, where all our dreams have been long stored.

It is the day we designed with forevers and grand wishes.

Tomorrow has come now, revealing its face. 

We shall meet it with courage and assertion, or we shall greet it quite shyly. 

We shall meet it none the less, and we shall meet it all at once. 

Not all will agree this happens for all . . . at once, 

For some continents live in much darker times than others. 

Per the wisdom of tall history notes: the beauty of our dreams and how far we see, 

A little constancy and some audacity--in making dreams a reality,  

Are all prime prerequisites for a world transformed.

All that surrounds me tells me I'm in for a contagious ride; 

That I am alive in a time of marvelous things.

I am awake to the brilliance of humanity. 

When I look in the mirror I see one of many several humans. 

One, indeed, with great nobility; and I discover there is a world just like me. 

The artists will sketch, the writers will scribe, and the traders trade, 

Visions of a noble cause-- that is this our humanity.

Honored to be alive, we will say of tomorrow that only the holiest of dreams shall thrive. 

We must redesign each and every life to meet tomorrow just on time, 

To break into war cry against the old and inadequate. 

We are kings, noble queens . . . and true to an eternal excellence

That lies in our bloodstreams.

This is the future, it does not plead. 

Tomorrow demands you take pride in your stately excellence. 

Go forth, bloom, prosper; and tell tales of marvelous things.