Beasts

For the reasons known only to the beasts 
they rarely escaped from their eroding homes 
when trees started falling through chainsaws and wild fires, 
perhaps some myths about the lands unknown  
or the beasts did not think of self as the beasts 
but like non maligned children of the wilderness, 
or maybe they knew what horrors unfold in civil lives 
they chose to stay within the silence of the earth.

Land, Water, Wilderness

If I decide to write on land, water and wilderness
I will write about me, you and our hopes

Land

I have been limited in my reach
to craft my desires,
have seen dreams uprooted 
into barren portions unable to hold dust, 
except for some continuous small basins 
you create

Water

You are the river running across me
the rain on my parched skin,
parts of me that live
through your flows

Wilderness

Our hopes, restricted
preserved, protected
with so much to ask
for so little to have
like the wilderness.

the poem died in words

He carried her fragrances 
lingering inside his glances 
a secret, almost an affair 
desire, she uncovered layer by layer.

Few gaps in the blinds had let in sunrays 
he thought of that dawn often for days 
when resting on an elbow, she'd leaned towards 
to smile, cry and say that the poem died in words.

entire sky

With a little reluctance

she opens her palms

holding out the soil, water 

and entire sky

a firefly..