The moon

Every year she looked at the moon
    through the sieve....

Every year he looked at the moon
       through his words....

Both celebrated the very thing
         From afar....

June Tree

A thousand years
            a thousand fears
                     a thousand tears
                           we shed
         for each other,

    Like moth
                  to flame,
                       a deadly game,
        lost children
                   looking
                for their mother,
      and when hearts sing,
            the music brings
          magic
             like no other.

         The winter cold
                no hands to hold,
The summer
     brief
            and sunny,
and in the mornings,
pressed
      close to you,
          cherished moments,
      tender, loving,
             funny,
We danced,
        We laughed,
We flew,
           We grew,
We dared,
            We cared
more than any soul
           could know
                  or reason,
  the light so bright,
              the fit so right
      for a hundred
                  precious
                            seasons.
The moth
          The flame
                   The dance
              The same
Then broken wings
    and treasured things
           in pieces
  all around us,
              the dream
the only one
    I long for,
here or there,
    our souls
        laid bare,
a million years for now,
     My heart
                 Will
                      Ever
                             Hold you! !

Distance

I love the light that enter your eyes
When they think of the gold sky
The little gestures you make
The silent smile that slips onto your face....

When you realise I'm listening
Even if I'm far away.....!!

Untitled

I thought  heartache at this age was impossible.
Then I realised that pain was never out of fashion.

Do I remember?

I remember in no particular order
* a shiny teary cheek
* animated voices of children from the next room
*the dubious acknowledgement of "I will also always love you"
*the call wait from the hospital informing my mother wasn't too well.
*the courage that suddenly crept inside me...yes I could end it.

This last isn't something I actually saw but what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.

We live in time..it holds us..but I could never understand it very well. I mean ordinary everyday time ..which clocks assure us goes regularly.  Yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time's malleability.  Some emotions speed it up , others slow it up -until the eventual point when it really does go missing. ..never to return.  I'm not very interested in what really happened and don't feel any nostalgia for them. Because we all suffer damage one way or another.

How do we react to damage..do we admit it or repress it. For me the damage was predictable. .yet I couldn't fathom it. I was too immersed in good times . Now after a year I feel that pain did not last long ..for I have a certain instinct for self preservation.
After all we all get towards the end of life ..no not life itself but of something else..the end of any likelihood of change in that life . We all are allowed a long moment of pause , time enough to ask questions : What else have I done wrong?
There is accumulation.  There is res ponsibility ..beyond that there is unrest.