I step into your darkness,
but I can't see you.
I hesitate to call out, to intrude,
what if you're asleep?
This pitch-black,
most severe shade of darkness —
could it get any darker!

Blinded by light for too long,
now I cannot see
the figure lying still,
not very far from me.

I close my eyes, delving
into the deepest of my darkness;
in that profound blackness
I search for my lost sight.

As I open my eyes, it’s there
before me: a grey world painted
in its myriad intriguing shades.
In its hands, clasped in a tight hug,
delicately interwoven,
I finally find you.

My first crush in school
was this boy, a Physics geek.
I thought it wise to resort
to your laws to get him to like me.

Your law of attraction, I read:
Attraction: Linear to mass, inverse to distance;
word by word, over and again,
with boxes of pizza next to me.
Then, with the weight thus gained
deliberately over a summer break,
closest to him I sat in class —
but not once did he return my glance.

Disappointed now, set to forget, I turned to your law of inertia of rest: What’s at rest will remain so, until…

I dread to think, lest it be of you;
those luscious memories I cannot undo —
endearing walks on moon-kissed nights,
the covert glances, the riveting talks,
brief encounters, and enticing cues.
Moments captured, treasured for life,
flash before me pleading to relive;
vain entreaties, as I self assure,
drops most pure streak down my cheeks.

With every breath, I strive to deny the silent words that choke within; words that speak through the gushing gale, the chirping birds and the silent skies: I love thee much, though barriers stretch; like an ivy onto the wall, true, doth clutch. This…

She rocks me on her lap
humming a soft lullaby,
I close my eyes, slip
into night’s deep slumber;
that perfect round dot
on her dark forehead,
wanes into darkness.

In response to this week’s prompt “Moon” by Ana-Maria Schweitzer.

For the storms keeping me grounded,
sun spreading hope, unfailing,
stars instilling wonder;
mountains, resilience;
experiences teaching to be
at peace with what’s changing:
jobs, money, people, self —
I’m grateful.

Thanks to Sherry Kappel for the prompt “Gratitude” :

Chug, chug, he chugs along
with a pack of strangers;
boarding, alighting,
then repeating.

Far from home, in many places,
seeking answers from unusual spaces;
a stranger in strange destinations.

Exploring, yet seldom catching
the fleeting glimpses of true meaning.
Walking past streets, often unseeing
the signboards, homeward-pointing;
he struggles, with false belonging.

Rays of light from a concealed sun
from behind the broad, somber clouds,
refracting through layers of mist,
losing heat and glow; spreads out
cold and grey.

Heavy whips of rain lash out
in sheets, delivering its wrath —
overflowing dams,
breaching rivers and canals,
washing out homes and houses;
the flood creeps up to my knees.

Fierce winds from across the sea
storm against tall trees, that
sway frantically in a wild dance,
percussing in absolute madness.
Strong buildings, refusing to budge,
slice the gushing air with its edges;
the deflected winds howl in rage.

As I watch in ghastly silence,
nature’s this wild orchestra;
as the mighty cyclone hits the coast —
deep, shrill wails ring in my ears:
dark whispers of a battered, troubled sea.

Flowers that blushed, you
unwittingly crushed when you
walked away that day.