The Wind and the Tree

In the days of old, on an isolated icy mountain, far up the Northern belt of a place that now boasts only of ruins, of debris, of poetry - of the essence of a great love that once existed; a great battle, that once was fought; and the low, pining rustling of the suspicious, secluded,…

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ALL THAT WE’VE LEFT BEHIND

Respite, that and that alone is what now I crave, to escape and fly, unnoticed, invisible, before I reach my grave. I have for too, too long now, sung this, my serenade, to the Ideal World, unto which I shall take that leap of faith. But wait, what if it doesn’t exist? It surely must,…

Fall leaves, fall…

Fall leaves, fall, in your autumnal grey; now you prepare for the black pall, the naked winter days... Seasons wrap up like chilly pedestrians; each new morning closer to the close; how sanguine seem your yellow surfaces, as if kissed by the sunset's own hues! And like the dying in the final stages, you reveal…

Birds of the Courtyard

Where have they gone - the birds of the courtyard - that chirped ceaselessly, before a sharp sound or those chattering monkeys set them aflutter? Do you remember how they descended from their glorious aerial abode to the courtyard, in warm gratitude for the host, delightfully picking at the seeds strewn on winter mornings -…

The Tree

I shed my leaves and stare at the sun stand stark and bare, unafraid to burn; let the roar of the river reverberate and rent the overcast, overwhelmed firmament. Glad tidings to all that curse to see from these harrowing horrors, my release - when charred to a crisp 'neath ash grey skies like the…