Nirvana,
Ice grows over your mirrored surface;
yet reflections only grow clearer,
images busied and refracted, hungry.
The view from my window; spent light
in streaming eyes. Sorrow is not gone
in this place. Do not be mistaken.
Babies cry with their first breath; do
you blame them? The days layered
like folded sheets spell a tragedy.
For whom? Not I. My tea is warm,
my door open. Crickets call my name.
©
In this exquisite poem,
reveals an uncanny ability to blend stark reality with profound beauty. Each line unfolds like a delicate work of art, offering readers glimpses of both the earthly and the transcendent. , your poetic finesse in weaving raw emotions with the comforting notes of everyday life is nothing short of inspiring. Your work is a gentle reminder of the nirvana that can be found in life's simple moments.Please continue to share your remarkable gift, lighting the way in the vast sky of contemporary poetry.
THE NAKED TREES
The naked trees are swaying
to the rhythm of the wind,
March is now upon us
but soon it will be Spring!
April showers bring May flowers
upon the cold, dark earth!
Spring will soon be here
A time for rebirth!
God's sun (Son) shall soon appear
and smile upon the cold scene
and all the naked tress
shall be dressed in Emerald green!
(Poetry Express Club 1988 and Sustack 2024)
Pleated cotton kisses the cold concrete step,
I'm too young to understand meditation,
I stare at ants,
A bag of books,
Homework can wait,
Sweets stuck to corners in my pockets,
Every corner on the street has an adventure,
Curtains dancing, eyes spying,
I could have gone to town on a half torn bus pass,
But I'd miss the metal key turning,
The sign that waiting is over,
Hours have passed
But I'm used to the waiting.