The sea battered the land
Lashing his strong waves
Beating the ragged cliffs
Begging for her love

The earth did not care
For she loved the sun so much
She would stare at him all day
But the sun would always leave

At night, the moon would appear
The clouds try to hide her
From the eyes of men
Always wanting everything

But the little stars just watched
They would giggle and twinkle
Blinking silently
And then exclaiming with joy

Sometimes they would jump
From the black sky
Into the arms of the earth
And the sea, who yearned

Then the sun would come out again
In the morning
Melting away the cold
From last night’s affairs

The tin can rattled and rolled
Breaking the dead silence of the night
The street child lonely strolled
Without fear, without fright

Two months ago, his parents died
He was left alone
He was helpless, but naught he cried
He lost the will to mourn

Two weeks ago, he was running
Snatching, robbing, pick-pocketting
Living in the metropolis
Without joy, without bliss

Two days ago he slumped on the floor
Crumpled like paper
Clutching his stomach
No one noticed

Two days ago a boy walked here
Kicking an empty can
Now he lay silent, unmoving
Still, no one noticed

Two hours ago someone found him
People came, from all directions
Murmuring, whispering,
Beside the boy, a lighted candle.

The fields are heavy of rice grains
Planted during the monsoon rains
Billowing clouds rolled overhead
The golden summer bed

Farmers and their curved sickles
Bare skins with deep wrinkles
Straw hats and sweaty faces
Marched onward on steady paces

I went outside and ran uphill
To where the acacia stood still
I climbed her rough branches
And sat on her broad arches

The flute found its way to my lips
From the strap that was on my hips
I placed my fingers on the note holes
The music of thousand souls

The hymn to the farmers of old
Of long forgotten stories told
Melodies of sharp and mellow
Ranged from joy to sorrow

Under the bright sun as they went
Stiff limbs and backs bent
They heard the song and slowly halted
And turned around with faces twisted

Into smiles and laughter and bright eyes
From weary souls to harvesting rice
They waved their hats into the air
And the wind played with their hair

Father with his broad shoulders cried
Cupping his hands with all his pride
A good harvest this time awaits
Of twining souls and music fates

They say I am the wind, always passing by
I couldn’t agree more, I heave with a sigh
Some say I am the sea, roaring in turbulence
Or the highlands serene with all its prudence

But some know me as a prince of a clan
Yet some remember the image of an old man
Or a beggar by the street in the hot summer days
A little child playing by the sun’s golden rays

I am the flowers of May, the nymphs once said
I am the shadows and gray, said the undead
The fire of a torch in the darkest dungeons
Or the spike of an ancient ****** bludgeon

The truth is I am all that you see
I am all that you touch, everything that is free
I am crawling with life, I breathe, I feel
I am very long dead, I am the unreal.

The dragons breathed fire in the core of my soul
I smell of rot and decay, as that of a ghoul
I am the cold blade of a knight’s heavy sword
What am I? For I am only a single word.

Praise the mind, the pen and the paper
Oil in the lamp, the fuel of wonder
Everything comes alive, with the softest whisper
Many have failed to render the answer

Read this twice in the 21st century
The following clues are never a mystery
From here, count your footsteps back in time
You’ll pass the guardians of the holy shrine.

Keep in mind that I linger all around you
I am the enigma of the lines which grasp you
I feel you, and touch you and see you
Read again and you’ll see me too.

Cherry Blossoms fall
As we pass by the stone bridge
Hanging pink curtains

Fishes in the pond
White, black and clean red markings
Making small ripples

Mother’s kimonos
Of red flowers and grasses
Were velvety silks

The sparrow perched here
On the wooden window pane
Pecking on the grains




Winter came slowly
I strolled by the frozen halls
Blowing on my hands

Spiders spin their webs
Sakura watched quietly
Her eyes glowed dimly

Snow covered rice fields
They climbed Fiji with Father
They did not come back

The window pane fell
Ice melted on the stone floor
They all ran away

My fingers galloped
Water froze in the fish ponds
I weren’t afraid

The drums of the south
Pounding hard with pride
And strings of zebra tails
Would produce notes
And high tunes
As the natives danced
Up and down
Sideways
Around the fire

They brought my eyes
To feast on colors
Of bright canvasses
Bursting vividly
With dark strokes
And light spots

They made me march
Barefoot
On grape barrels
And tomatoes too
Squishing the juice
And producing syrups
Of putrid but sweet
Flavors of wine
And sauce
Of the Mediterranean soil

I marveled on the sight
Of sculptures
On wood and stone
Gods and goddesses
Stood in pace
Still figures
In frozen grace
Strong and exquisite
In complete forms
Of war faces
And grotesque clothes

A girl with dark skin
And pearly white teeth
Offered a drink
In bamboo cup
I thought it was juice
From ambrosia
It was honey water
The sweetest in the world

A gong’s sound echoed
Deep in the halls
Of a stone temple
The villagers ran
Inside huts
Then emerged
With fruits
On top of their heads
They raced to the forest
In winding buffalo paths
I followed

Fruits of the tropics
And fishes
Meat from hunt
Laden in baskets
And bamboo poles
Were laid on the floor
Facing the mountain
Where the god lived

The altar flames rose
Tendrils of fire
From torches
And oil lamps

The rituals
Of sacrifice
For their deity


They bowed low
They chanted
And painted their bodies
With mud and paint

They drank wine
And danced in a circle
Of a stone kept fire
In the stone temple

A trumpet of a beast
Of incredible strength
An elephant
Marched in
On its back was saddled
A man
And a woman
They were wed last night
And they rejoice
And danced
With their people

After a week
I was on a plane
Gazing on the canopies below
The continent
The heart of the world
Of cultures diverse
Simple ways
To enjoy life
And the wonders
Of this world

The table waited
For the father and mother
For the merry children
For a splendid dinner
Beside the fire
Where memories flickered
Of roast turkey
And hot cocoa
And a puppy emerging
In a bright parcel
Of red and green
The festive colors

The walls remember
Candle lit evenings
Where stories were told
Under warm blankets
The children would snicker
And laugh in glee
And excitement
As the mother kissed them
And the father said good night

The porch reminiscing
Bright summer days
Where the family
Played joyous games
And sang with the guitar

The yard misses
Seeing the children
In clean uniform
Marching off to school
And coming home
With tired smiles

And the rusty old car
Creaks his hinges
As he weeps
Remembering the father
Who polished and cleaned
During dusty days

And the curtains were weary
For they wanted to move
To let sunlight in
To recapture moments
When the family
Would chase each other
Around the house
Playing hide and seek
Shrieking and exclaiming
In happy voices

The old tree so ancient
Bent over the house
Missing when the son
Would climb his branches
And when in night
He watches them in silence
Camping under his leaves
Huddling each other
In warm plump arms
And when the tree
Peeks in the window
He would see the daughters
Gladly dressing up
For birthday parties

And the doghouse
The wooden old doghouse
Falling apart
Looks at the past
At a little puppy
Licking at his bone
And then coming out
With dozens of other puppies


And the dusty floorboards
Weak and brittle
Will creak at night
Remembering footsteps
Entering and leaving
The grandiose proud door
With a bronze doorknob

And a chandelier would clink
When the wind passes
Filling the house
With flashbacks
Of a new baby
Of graduations
And weddings
And then of noise
Noises of fun
And laughter
And giggles

They cannot remember
The blind day
When everyone vanished
Not a letter of goodbye
Not a wave of the hand
No words no memories
Nothing
Sadness and peace once again

They all sighed
As the sun vanished
In the edge of the neighborhood
They all wept
For the old wood
In the middle of everyone
Waiting for the family
The sad dining table
With ashes and burnt chairs
The table waited...