MYSTERIES

Tell me of secrets and mysteries untold,
of untraveled roads and turning lead to gold;
unravel the unseen before my eyes,
tell me the truth in the language of lies.

 Take me on a journey into lands unknown,
where mermaids have walked and dodos have flown;
guide me through rivers of magical dust
that dawdle delicately from dawn to dusk.

Lead me over a bridge that crosses an abyss,
down an invisible path that is impossible to miss;
across a mountain that touches the sky,
into a cave where honest treasures lie.

Let me revel in revelations of things remarkable and rare,
bring to light dark tales that do not frighten or scare;
on the candid canvas of silence, perceptively portray,
with the brush of wisdom, the imperceptible truths even the wise cannot say.

Artwork “Forest – The End of Marmara” © DarkSilverFlame (Deviantart)

LOVE IS AN UNCUT DIAMOND

If the nature of love
you wish to understand,
think of it
as an uncut diamond
held in your hand.

Sharp,
and full of rough edges;
if held too tightly,
it can cut  you
like a blade.

Strong and eternal;
if polished with care,
it holds the potential
of a beauty rare,
one, that will never fade.

It is as ancient
as the world that made it,
and yet, seems forever new;
complex, when analyzed,
yet, so simple, it’s untrue.

THE ONSET OF THE MONSOON II

There’s a freshness in the air,
anticipation everywhere,
can you feel the coming rain?
And if you feel its scent linger,
can you hear what its bringer,
the ocean wind, is saying?

There’s a freshness in the air,
anticipation everywhere,
can you see the coming rain?
From the flashes up there,
can you tell when and where
the rain-gods will be playing?

There’s a freshness in the air,
anticipation everywhere,
can you hear the coming rain?
A roar above is proof
That soon, on your roof,
The rain dance will begin again.

BY THE RIVERSIDE

You can almost feel the time stop,
it’s so peaceful by the riverside;
you can hear the whisper of every drop
that rides on every tide.

The waves speak a language
that has not a word,
yet, is more beautiful
than anything you’ve heard;
for when the magical music of silence does play,
you wonder why you ever speak, anyway.

Slowly, the evening,
in the night’s shadow
does hide,
its long, languid race
is run,
but the magic
by the riverside
has only just begun.

-2011

Image : NightRiver by Latyrx @ Deviantart

http://latyrx.deviantart.com/art/Night-River-213378806

SEVEN DROPS OF RAIN

Seven drops of rain
land gently on my hand,
each one, I see,
has its own, unique beauty.

The first is so well groomed,
and perfectly round,
it looks like it’s seen the world
and traveled all around.

The second moves mischievously,
like a playful child,
naive and trusting,
but carefree and wild.

The third sits quietly
on my palm,
perfectly still,
content and calm.

The fourth is simply lovely
to look upon,
to mesmerize the senses
it seems to have been born.

The fifth seems awkward
but also has qualities rare;
it shields the others
with great love and care.

Number six appears to be in a fix,
for it knows not what to do,
but when it finds its niche,
it will surpass the others too.

The last, hollow and empty,
has everything all the same,
the nameless one,
to which you could give any name.

-Written in 2011