Night Walk


The birds trill as they soar from verdant green to green,

Harmony mixes with the subtle cacophony of cicadas

Filling the air with mystery and curiosity.

My home isn’t far away.


The stars dot the darkening sky,

The sun’s nocturnal partner rises.

He signals the evening met with howls and growls,

And the downy owl hoots an ominous whoo,

As if to cue the Moon’s imminent dominion.


Rain begins to patter among the trees,

But Sleep encumbers me as time begins to fade,

The bushes scrape me as I try find my way,

A trodden path illuminated by his light spots me.


It serpentines but I’m never lost

Despite Nature’s insistent attempts to lure me away

Night time is prime for everything but man

For darkness engulfs nature’s amiable green


A window, fire, disarray at bay

The forest is vast and dark but cradles my home with its verdant hands

While sleep hushes me away

Until there is a new day.

They Fear the Clear Skies


Her body lied down near the smoldering ruins

As onlookers looked with dismay

Shrieks of horror, and despair enveloped the crowd.


A Father loomed as he caressed her desecrated body.

Uncontrollable sobs sprinkled down like rain from clouds

A symptom of his inner maelstrom of emotions

Flooded his entire existence.


He scorned the pristine sky that abetted the mechanical birds of prey

The roaring thunder, the inner maelstrom

Ignited the once lush source of compassion and kindness

Devoured and consumed the kernel of his being.

A Brief Sojourn Near the Lake

It’s a pleasant exile, though ephemeral.

With only a step into the warm blankets of sand and a whiff of fresh air,

One can easily affirm the elegance of the Lake.

Accompanied by the benign chirping of fowl

With an endless sublime view of blue.

Bring on the sunniest days of unremitting rays

For the breeze of the Lake is sheer.

But when Day is chased away by her grim brother the Night,

Gather the timbers and give a good light.

Bask in the fiery embers and gaze at the sun’s last farewell

As the imminence of Night comes near.

But the Lake is steadfast, and scintillating

even under Night and his luminous moon.

A sight you could enjoy for years and years.

Alas, it’s only for awhile.









Ruminations from Midnight I

Isn’t it a lapse of mankind or simply by reason,

To embrace empty indulgence?

The toil of the many and the impoverished

bleed to fashion artifacts, that serve superfluously at best.

Addicts stuck in their own artificial places

Catching coins, where no human face is.

Worry, abated by the languid fingertip,

Supplemented by the bitter bottle,

While fickle men in high places don’t pay heed.

Like they would need,

They stoop over like Olympians,

Sipping wine like pampered pigs on caviar,

Watching the mortals aid Sisyphus on his never ending quest,

A place where you can’t get no rest.

But it helps having their colluding cronies near,

For what could prevail the ones that have nothing to fear.