The Return

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The magnitude of oneself,
the hallucinating voices
can overwhelm an altar

Like grinding of gravel into sand
locust deluded by summer
start eating trees
birds lost their songs,
now mere shadows in the horizon

Then you came with your guitar
music and prayers bounce on the walls
repetitional phrases of longing,
a chant of a pilgrim returning
for the first time.

Can it be a dream?

Can it be a dream?

Can you live just for one moment?
The garden is one small garden
Cultivate it together.
I am folding the umbrella
When I remember
I am not able to get your phone
number or your address
The rain erases stains
And footprints, a day’s memory.
How do strangers meet again?

note: I just finished reading Voltaire’s Candide.

 

 

 

What’s life

The sound of whipping eggs
Energy mimics chaotic emotion
Of misplaced photographs
Critical point of dominance
Of contemporary thinking
And concepts emerge in avalanche.
You carry your imagination everywhere
Enduring the questions of survival
Writing stories in long hand
In the backyard full of bougainvillea
After driving through a dense traffic everyday.
Not a sweeping change
But a foray in symmetry in life
That is common and unnoticed.