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.

An Open Book

Look through me for a second,
Open my eyes and dive into me,
Behind the blink the city lies,
Streetlights on steps to ascend,
Towards the mind and its heaven,
Or descend to a rainbow gathering,
Flutes and harps strung in peace,
Let the sky twinkle in your smiles,
My cosmos at your warm heart,
See for yourself my evolution,
And the rise of a civilisation,
A leader, thirty years in the making,
Who is mad about natural beauty,
A nature to search for pure souls.

A Faint Feeling

A faint feeling,
Foolish thoughts,
Missing you,
Missed you already,
And it lives on my heart,
I left you,
To come back,
And leaving you,
For three years,
So, it is just a faint feeling,
And I will miss you,
Missing you already,
A star to my sky,
A sky to my heart,
A heart to my life,
A life to my soul,
My gorgeous soulfriend.

Never Let Her Go

I planted seeds of sweet royalty,
And I watered some warmth,
I observed her as she grew up,
A year of gorgeous blossoming,
The heart of my fruitful garden,
And now I must let my soulfriend go.

A strong and independent plant,
And I need to travel for few years,
I have faith in her but I am also –
Afraid; fear from the unknown,
First time to react for a plant,
And now I must let my star go.

To others, she might be normal,
To me, unique; a rare treasure,
A special plant that I discovered,
I must act blind and hide my tears,
Such that I can move on and smile,
And now I must let my twin go.

My words will start to diminish,
Otherwise the cyclical agony
Will forever continue its haunt,
But I am extremely proud of her,
She is me in almost everything,
And now I will never let her go.

Little Things Towards the East

Upon a riverbank, the little birds chirp,
One might leap its warmth onto another,
A celestial songwriter elevates the two,
And a new birdsong is sung for us all,
On the Eastern months of a short year,
The little things that make us more of us.

Howls and Roars

I was once a little boy who travelled
To different planets; each to tell their
Own ancient story about my purpose –
Not theirs, and strangely enough, only
Riddling clues evaporated into my ears,
The voice? Well, no specific position,
Only the vivid signs in the atmosphere,
And on the brightest month of the year,
And on the coldest night of the month,
And on the loneliest hour of the night,
Wolves started to appear amidst the
Misty snowfall of a woodland planet,
And I have lived on this planet patient
For it to tell me its story about me,
And even after years spending on it,
I have never heard anything except now:
The endless howls under the several
Moonlights – the volcanic planet did
Reveal the secret of the darting red
Eyes that would stop my heartbeat,
But I had to do something for them,
And their approach was slow and
Fixated centred entirely around me,
I couldn’t climb the trees or dig down
And hide below some earthly matter,
But I might be able to speak some
Sense into them, and so I told them
To go away and leave me alone,
I asked them what of me did they want,
Their reply was simply predatory,
And I knew that any second now
I would be devoured into little pieces
Beyond recognition, and so I shouted,
And I noticed the hesitation on the
Younger wolf, and so I roared at the
Top of my young lungs, and many
Stopped their deathly march, but
Since I was by myself that pause did
Not last forever, and so, I roared again
And again and again, but this time,
The planet roared its life with me.

Greed

There was once a businessman,
Corrupted beyond logical reason,
He would count the stars at night,
And before sunrise – before any
Witnesses – he would take one,
Because, to him, they were not
Very efficient on the dark sky,
He would rather take them for
Their energy and sell them for
Profit so that by the end of the
Year three hundred and sixty
Five stars were put in the safe
In one of his banks that nobody
Knew, and one night, there was
A little girl who could not sleep,
While the moon snored aloud,
But her eyes were attracted
Towards those diminishing
Stars nobody ever befriended,
Except her where she and
Twinkle talked for the entire
Night, but just before the
Sun showed itself, the man
Put Twinkle in his big bag,
His greed blinded him to see
The poor little girl crying so
Innocently asking for help,
Here and there, shouting at
Other stars to pull the bag
Away from that greedy man,
But nobody listened, so she
Decided to follow this wicked
Man back to where he locked
Twinkle, but what she saw was not
Only Twinkle but also the rest of
The stolen stars, millions and
Millions of them trapped in the
Safe, and so she decided to open it,
Break it, destroy it entirely, and
When she did the stars floated
Freely towards their home, but the
Businessman shouted at the little
Angry girl: “you have to pay for the
Loss of revenue!” but the girl
Shouted back: “they don’t belong
Here,” the evil greedy man said:
“I counted them all night, I labelled
Them, I made them efficient, and
Now, they’re gone because of you,
Didn’t you know that I owned them?”
The girl said calmly: “they were
Never for sale in the first place.”

The Magician’s Demise

The magician casted a spell on the
Beautiful Moon at the darkest hour
Of the longest night of this old year,
With his tall top hat and a ravenous
Empty smile he backed away casing
His crooked back by a violet cape,
As he jumped into the shadows of
Dodgy side alleys with his lengthy
Golden staff the Moon resisted,
Afraid that his identity might be
Revealed the magician tried to live
Under the shields of Earth’s crust,
But the buckets of love reversed
The spell by the Earth and poured
Hours of agony onto the magician,
Ever since that moment at the
Darkest hour of the longest night
Of this old year the Moon sang:
Je t’aime de tout mon coeur.