The Bird and Her Egg.

The drops splash atop sleeping leaves,
Like beats measuring song;
The grey sky its burden relieves
And the rain falls for long.
A bird’s laid an egg in mom’s flowers;
She thinks it’s safe and well;
The poor thing doesn’t know it’s just hours
Before it’s reduced to a shell.
The frightened eyes are red and bright,
Unblinking, full of fear;
But instinctual love gives it might,
It moves not though I’m near.
My dog sees it and pounces fast
I restrain her, the bird flies!
Its own survival wins at last:
Love leaves, life’s lost, hope dies.
The grey sky turns dark as the trees,
The rain drops aren’t as strong,
They splash still atop sleeping leaves,
With beats of a new song.

Staying Awake.

My night prepares me for Hope,
Staying awake in silence,
With eyes wide open,
Has made me appreciate the dark.
Loneliness corresponds.
Staying awake prepares me.
Through the past I built my hope on blue skies and the sun.
In years, I realised the blue could turn grey,
And the sun could burn and set.
The dreams night bestowed
Were invisible by day.
So I am awake
When the world about me
Blissfully dreams on.
Alone – doing whatever it is I do –
Staying awake at night,
Sleeping through mornings instead.
Quiet night prepares me,
For the rest of life ahead.
5th November, 2007.


Námo, I pray, hear what I say,
On grief’s shards, I have tread;
I take thy curse, despair I nurse
In cold, on my stone bed.
The Night keeps falling,
While Woe keeps calling,
And my Heart weeps.
Námo, I pray, hear what I say,
Take my loss, keep it well;
Take my Hope that helped me cope,
As I move towards Hell.
The Night keeps haunting,
While Woe seems daunting,
And my Heart weeps.
Námo, I pray, hear what I say,
Take his breath, keep it warm;
In the pall of night, watch his sleep,
Shelter him through this storm.
The Night keeps its dark,
While Woe keeps its spark,
And my Heart weeps.
Námo, if this thou do, I vow true,
No other complaint shall I know;
The cold, I shall lovingly hold;
Wither thy Will, my Life shall go.
Though the night be deep,
And Woe my smiles reap,
My quiet heart shall keep.
3 dec 07

For now time has stilled in memory.

Monsoons cascade over my sweltering skies,
The sun’s glare no longer hurts my eyes,
The koél sings and with it my heart flies;
For now time has stilled in memory.
The cool wind blows in from clouds wide and grey,
There is slanted light and heat’s kept at bay;
All is fresh: this is how I like my day;
For now time has stilled in memory
I lay my head down and call soft to sleep
And see what dreams I shall get to keep,
Floating along with stars in skies so deep;
For now time has stilled in memory
Through my half-closed eyes I see the moon,
Peeking through the clouds to hear earth’s tune,
As it welcomes rain as a blesséd boon;
For now time has stilled in memory.
I hear no sound now for none are near me,
Some I’ve pushed away, most have set me free,
I’ve no room for pain, it, too, leaves me be;
For now time has stilled in memory
4 July 2007.

To R. P.

The moon has gone through her phases, so have I,
So has life, so has the World around me;
I’ve watched Friendship flower, wither and die –
First day; now it is Night that surrounds me.
In phases, they came – who chose to be friends;
In phases, they went, are going, shall go;
In short, everything, that matters, ends –
Our link’s, perchance, caught in this undertow…

But our link isn’t strained, let alone ended,
Come, let us make most of this happy night.
In Woe or Fear were you not befriended:
Our flower still blooms unwary of Blight.

Hope and Love bless the smiles of you and me;
And, perchance, forever shall we happy be.

19 December, 2007.

Tears Unnumbered.

The forces were ready. War was calling.
The eyes held winter while spring was falling.
The elves shone in their armour, their swords gleamed,
And dwarves marched, along the sun as it beamed.
Edain houses strode in valour and song;
Folk of all free peoples came, brave and strong.

Though some had stayed away, courage raced through
Each heart, set with hope that then seemed so true.
True so, too, fell the Prophecy of Doom,
That most had shunned with the first rising Moon,
Though none now knew who were the numbered dead
They wept unnumbered tears ere they were shed.

4 July 2007
(This was written for an RP that I wanted to join.)

Frodo’s Song.

I walk toward Doom and all before me is dark;
There is nothing between me and this wheel of fire.
All these flames are cold; there burns not even one spark
That can light this ambivalent destiny’s pyre.

An ally has borne me across these miles of strife
But the one has haunted even his quiet might
And all that comes to last of his and my life
Is a hope: bereft of reason and out of sight.