Turning a Page (Poem)

Departing

            a place once home

            is much like turning a page

            in your life.

As the page turns

            your journey slowly unfolds

            the map of memories,

            places visited, lived

            now treasured

            in your heart.

Many are the roads ahead

            detour of tears and fears

            highways of joys and good times

            destination, unknown

            for there is so much to see and do

            people to meet

            to know and love.

A new home

            I look at my surroundings,

            the page of life, turns once more.

The Old Garden and the Golden Flower (Poem)

In the old garden
a golden flower opens
by the garden wall.
Its pollen gave life to me
the day I forgave myself
of iniquities.

In this old garden
I retreat with great splendor
with each breath of life
abide by love given to me.
This golden flower
lives beyond its existence;
each petal brings joy within
heartless souls,
and bestows each child
with the sweetest of aspiration
to be their best person.

In this old garden
I rest on the garden wall,
leaning on an old friend
with whom I have lost contact,
touching the inscription
I wrote long ago,
paying tribute
to the golden flower.
It reads:
“If blood is thicker than water,
then the ink of this pen is my life’s blood.”
A moment of soft tears of recollection,
I’m giving back to the golden flower a feeling of triumph;

on bended knees I am in gratitude,
for the golden flower
lives on in all.

** I love, you.

 

A miss, I shall not Forget (Poem)

I am here with my thoughts

contemplating peace

in wonder

somewhere in my mind

once confused

now amused by the peace in my heart

keeps missing you

where ever you are

our communication is missed

with a kiss of kindness

covered by clouds of gray

let it rain to wash the tears we once had

let sun take over let it shine

life to short for such petty

as it warms our soul with joy

the memories of you will always bring a song

that only I could sing

a song only the birds can hear

and understand the way I feel for you

still close to me the tune lingers

your words embossed in my heart

with a touch of grace

a miss I shall not forget.

Brittle (Poem)

Today,

 I am brittle. an eggshell.

I am silent in my world of noise

feeling the rise of pain

costing my health to weaken

how much more can I take

when I want no more?

where are the ears to listen

when I wish them to be around?

It is painfully lonely

when others think you've got it all together

not realizing - you can break just as easily as them.

I don't ask for much

but when in time of need

again I cross the finish line

and everyone's gone home.

the streets are bare

as if I was the last human on earth.

Oh God, hear me!

I just want to sleep.