Cracks

Taj Mahal, India..... from a recent trip.


Walking down a deserted, dusty road
Holding the earth within my spirit
I grasp the sand tightly, as a memory
A million pieces slowly slip away
Through the cracks in my feeble hands.

Pathways of life come to a fork
With an unknown destination
I see cracks in the road
Hidden, yet breaking
The pavement’s old, worn face.

You hold me; a touch of your hand
Leaves cracks in my heart
I remember your presence
As an subtle afterglow, on that road
A sojourner to the setting sun’s embrace.

If I were a younger man
Remembering those carefree days
I would not hide in the regrets
Of passing time lost, and
The cracks on my aging skin.

Hope runs through, these simple lines
Despite a cold, weeping wind
Into the halls of an old creaky house,
The wintry nip seeps through window cracks
And reminds me where I am.

You can find poetry, hidden in the cracks
Along the road and walls around us
It’s in the life we live, the people we meet
The faces that glance and smile
And within memories, written along the way.



OSI#113: Fissures



Young girl in Pune, India

Out of Darkness

Statue at Stan Hywet Hall & Gardens

There’s a place in the shadows
With no form, mass, or state
Vacuity, wrapped in total numbness.
Interaction, dampens under a mossy rock
Within the complete absence of reason
Unfamiliar, with senses blinded
Existence reeks from Trompe l'œil.

It’s strangling like an unyielding noose
Tightening slowly, around waning sanity
Senses shutting down
A long, long time ago.
From uncertainty to desperation
A distant voice whispers
“Take off the mask”.

Where does a place like this come from?
When the leaf dies invisibly, falling
Into a void of primordial nothingness
Thoughtless reality passes through barren trees
Stuck to a façade of staunch perception.
Does knowing, make a profound difference
Within a lifetime of understanding?

A restless night, mind made up
Then changed back, again and again.
Finally, the shape shifter awakens
Mocking the calling voice
Within the pretense of masquerade
Silence answers the persistence.
And then, a reverberation
“Take off the mask”



OSI#112: Mask

Mountain Sun

Arches National Park, Utah, USA


You are like the mountain sun in the morning sky
Lighting up the earth by day
And the moon and the stars by night
Wrapped in plain brown paper with fuzzy string
Into a quiet pond, as a pebble dropped
Your love simply grows as concentric circles within me.
Through your eyes, intimate life moments blink by
From the shadows, the nameless slowly awaken.

Now you know, nothing can separate us
From your all consuming, first light rising
Like a beacon straight into the lens, we meld
Bundled in togetherness around the hearth on a cold night
Reflecting, as one sensitive heart steps into another.
May your sunsets be displayed on pallets of color
Brush strokes on the sky, surrounded in pastels
Like tender hues holding hands within the clouds.

My longing reflects within a prism of time, waiting
Separating my thoughts like color speaking in tongues
The power and illusion of love is all encompassing
It changes us within a touching, silent moment.
Desire, forced to stand alone by the side of the road
Waits for a ride to an unknown destination.
As a seed dropped on the wind, from a dying twig
Its insignificance can land and blossom along the journey.

Untying the string, as a forgotten memory calling
While floating in between the earth and sky
I smile to let the world know I am still alive.
Ascending to your blinding energy once again
Sharing one more frozen, drifting moment
In that instant between a departure and goodbye
The tree branch reaches upward to embrace the dusk
And the sun slowly sets, as your echo fades away.



OSI#111: Vicarious

Springtime Woods

A mid-afternoon view of the Smokey Mountains this past Tuesday from 1,680 meters along the Cherohala Skyway in eastern Tennessee, USA. What a day to be motorcycling!


I awoke from a dream this morning in the woods
I remembered, but could not place my locality
It’s springtime and the world is alive, growing again
With that light-green color of new growth that darkens in a fortnight.
The sun is just coming up lazily from the east, warming
Turning winter’s darkness into the light of changing seasons.

Today, it causes the mist to cling close to the ground
While shimmering like a silvery curtain, motionless
Hanging on to everything, causing color and view to be smudged.
I still remember the strong forest smell of spring, as lush moistness
A white-noise shower, with birds softly chirping in the distance
It’s the sensation of a cleansing spring rain winding down.

With the unmistakable freshness of a walk in the woods
I’ve often asked myself why I dream and end up in these woods
But I suppose, I too long to be renewed with the spring
And as the seasons; change and passing time ensue
Let’s you and I meet right here, down the path by the large stone
We can gather in this place and share the dream, together.

Words don’t accurately paint a picture of this day
My pallet being softly faded beyond this feeble dream
Memory always reflecting, never ending on these moments
But clarity haunts the joy of all the other forgotten days
Wandering the empty back roads of my mind
Still, wishing I was in these woods again with you.




OSI#110: Cognizance