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It is not every day I feel my heartbeat,
I hear it bouncing, like a ball on a ping pong, Its cusps flapping like sails of a ship. It is not every day I get a tide of dopamine, I feel dreamy, open, vulnerable, And dangling over a cliff edge. It is not every day I enjoy the sunshine, I clear my Deadwood, I notice daffodils, the purple lilies, And the colour of butterflies. It is not everyday, streams sound like flutes, Roses sprout in battlefields, Doves rest on canons, Dawn rides on the wings of butterflies, Rain rejuvenates the garden Of memories. It is not every day we feel a Spring, When life crawls back to the Life, when heart breaks Its icicles and flutters in an ecstasy. @drjal02
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Time has embroidered
Time has embroidered, your face, On the canvas of my mind, With the exquisite threads Of my memories. Everyday, helplessly, I stare At your silhouette, standing In the courtyard Of my dreams. Everyday I hear the echoes Of your voice, Reverberating, In the attic of my mind. Every night I weave the net Of my dreams, And cast it widely In the sea of your eyes. Every night you watch, like A white solitary moon, at the forest Of my solitude, At the cave of my soul. Every night your fingers, like A violinist, vibrate the strings Of my soul, create a music Out of my chaos. Take my heart And break it like a mirror, And you will see your face In every shard. Carrying a light basket Of my dreams, in the forest Of my poverties, I nurture hope. @drjal02 |
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