An Evolving Butterfly

Walking on a new land,
Hastening my pace,
To enter a garden,
The atmosphere evolves,
A new act of a scene in a play,
Warmth in its core,
Night befalls,
Clear sky,
Bright stars,
Majestic full moon,
And I find her –
Independent and surviving,
Colourful with a tint of struggle,
And so, I decide to halt,
Observing her wings blossom,
But it will take time,
Then I begin to move on,
Yet, I glimpse one last time,
Her passionate soul yearns to dance,
Taking my breaths away,
A free butterfly,
And so, I stay a bit longer,
Treasuring her presence,
And patiently awaiting the unknown future.

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The Figure and Her

Like a perfect morning Spring breeze,
Like a rare galactic celestial star,
Like an iron heart beating for a lost twin,
Mesmerising momentarily in greater depth,
At a figure, she paints from the unknown,
A mixture of shadows, a masterpiece, a landscape,
For her to soar, like a bird,
For her to cherish, like a treasure,
For what life brings her, like this figure,
And so, it starts to dance to her smiles,
Stargazing at her beating heart that twinkles afar,
And in turn, she snows nearby landing on its cheeks,
Hearing its whispers as she silences the world,
For seven hours straight, the figure is her all,
For many more at night, she is its delicate soul,
Without her, the figure is emotionless,
The son of a concerned mother,
The brother of a proud sister,
The aging father of a little girl,
To it, she becomes the definition of home,
A place to hold onto and to always return,
A shelter to its heart, a constellation to its mind,
An ongoing novella depicting the merging of souls,
Linguistically phenomenal as both start to realise,
A preface of dubbed barriers to never lose a translation,
A chapter of tones to reach complete perception,
And yet, a different chapter consumes all emotions,
Like a breeze that comes and goes,
Like a shooting star nowhere to be found,
Like a heart that switches to a highborn,
The plot thickens and the twist befalls,
A heavenly meeting was decreed for a resolution,
Three decades holding onto nomadic tents,
Leaving few years thinking to never come back,
And yet, this figure, out of nowhere comes back,
Part of the desert, earthly merged for eternity,
For what reasoning this soul comprehends
Is beyond the logical laws of a galactic universe,
The figure and her are just a story of a great return.

Split in Two

I
Outstretching a hand to a falling leaf,
A farewell ritual dancing with the breeze,
Purifying the land for its soft touches,
Commemorating our distant smiles,
And further, further it continues to leave,
So, I chose to quickly pick it up and hold it,
Sending all my warmth to its inner core,
Tending to its many complex arid cracks,
Some were so deep and beyond repair,
And even as close as I can be I am still –
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

II
And whilst I dream about a surreal era,
Where cracks flawlessly diffuse forever,
Where I await mine to be softly tended,
Or at least to be acknowledged; at least,
Another decides to ride the whispers
Of a warm wind guiding a silent nomad,
Which sounds so elegantly majestic,
And yet, it leaves behind a heavy mirage,
Silence becomes my natural remedy,
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

Slán Abhaile

Today, I inscribe warm letters from my free soul,
For the land who speaks an ancient language,
For its people whose voices resonate within me,
For those from other lands with different tongues,
A mixture of magical luminescence living together,
In symbiotic attraction dancing along a constellation,
Governed by voluntary smiles and peaceful hugs,
Twinkling in their lovely portraits within my poetry,
And I forever remember them as I place each star
On my heart’s ceiling for guidance at each heartbeat,
Lub-dub for few tears, lub-dub for more smiles,
Lub-dub for a farewell, lub-dub for a way forward.

Moving On

Tumble a life in a wet climate,
Tremble voices of eerie lands,
A stalemate to observe alone,
So, sound the universe’s horns,
And listen to a fateful answer,
And marvel at an ancient ritual,
As the old becomes the new,
As your beautiful worlds merge,
And transform, and evolve,
To beget a time that flows
Away from this deafening pause,
To replenish a lost energy,
And rework a life’s elegy,
To be carried into the wilderness,
Of the vast seas, of the lands,
Of the timeless heavens above,
Of your life, of the unknown.

My Twin

This angel that I’m inscribing letters to
Has placed many lovely prints on my
Final magical days in the lands of Gael,
We met a while ago but the exhausting
Spin of this world has put the gravity
On our shoulders to never meet again,
Except recently where we discovered
The popularity of (in chorus) corazón,
After which we began sharing melodic
Remedies for the mind, body, and soul,
This angel is now my twin who explores
With me dimensions of ecstatic dances,
And we start our sentences with laughs,
And we randomly end it with even more.

Let It Be You!

Take your time, lovely flower,
Be alone and soothe your heart,
Let the moon glow its glory
On your divine magical soul,
Let the tears of love that hide
Behind the curtains of pain
Flow down the rivers of my lands,
And walk outside into the
Tales of blossoming friendships,
There you will find my garden’s
Heart waiting to listen to your
Melodic songs to be sung by
The morning birds – voices of
Nature dancing with the wind
Where your soul shall smile,
Let it be young! Let it be free!
Let it be alive! Let it be you!