More Old Poems


The stars will guide us,

to unknown destinations.

Fate, fortune, and finality will merge in a ceaseless union and then fade into oblivion.

Do you want to lead or be led?

The pores of the parched earth suck in the sweat and tears, like pearls in oysters.

The bejeweled raindrops from the tips of the banana leaves fall on my forehead, blessing me with peace.

The waters of faraway shores pay obeisance, wash my feet off all wanderings, and then hauntingly mourn my absence.

It’s mysterious currents tug at the strings of the heart and play out a strange tune.

The tune fills the empty cage, my body.

The soul wants to be shattered into a few million pieces and fly away to the cosmos of rosy galaxies.

It desires to swirl into a frenzy of unrequited dreams and create an ecstatic reality.

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I can hear the silent swish of the leaves,

the pregnant winds bring a message,

a message in an ancient tongue,

a faraway voice calls out to me,

a tone of desperation or one of longing?

good tidings or word of caution?

Memories of a foregone identity touch me and then scatter away again.

The elements conspire for a mysterious union.

The pregnant winds beckon again, wrapping themselves around me, with a desire to encompass my reticent soul, and carry me away.

The earth slips away from beneath my feet, plunging me into a cheery darkness.

Fire and water clash in a relentless struggle,

a struggle where loss dissolves into gain, and gain into oneness.

The wheel rotates.

Each stroke signifying each age.

Each age motioning an oracle.

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