Yourself are your true mate

The sky is so tragically

beautiful

It is the graveyard of stars;

It doesn’t hurt but it leaves the

scars,

Not just on mind but the whole

human soul

Not just it control, but the heart

that it stole.

Maybe that’s what life has to 

give,

But this should not stop you to

relive!

Cause without pain,

How would you know joy;

It builds you up and just believe,

that it does not destroy.

All you need to have is faith,

Cause once it was said that life

is ‘fickle finger of fate’,

Believe in yourself because you

yourself are your true mate.

This is what you shall do

This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks,

stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have

patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men,

go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers families,

read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school

or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest 

fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every 

motion and joint of your body.

DREAMS

Dreams are the only

afterlife we know;

the place where the children

we were

rock in the arms of the children

we have become.

They are as many as leaves

in their migrations,

as birds whose deaths we learn of

by the single feather

left behind: a clue,

a particle of sleep

caught in the eye.

They are as irretrievable as sand

when the sea creeps up

its long knife glittering

in its teeth

to claim its patrimony.

Sometimes my father

in knickers and cap

waits on that shore

the dream of him

a wound

not even morning can heal.

The dog’s legs pump

in his sleep;

your closed eyelids flicker

as the reel unwinds:

watcher and watched,

archer and bull’s eye.

Last night I dreamed a lover in my arms

and woke innocent.

The sky was starry to the very rind,

his smile still burning there

like the rail of comet

that has just blazed by.

Hold on

“Hold on , hold on, hold on” they said,

“You’re a dandelion in the breeze,

Look what the winds of change have done

to all there autumn leaves.”

“Hold on, hold on , hold on,

This big wide world is not for you,

Hold on for long enough

for the last gust to dance on through.”

So I held on, held on, held on,

They said that’s how you know you’re strong,

But not until I wilted

did I notice something wrong.

I thought holding on was bravery,

But when winds of change do blow,

Sometimes it’s even braver still

to let go, let go, let go.

Simply You

What is love?

The way the sun sets so that the moon can shine. The sea greeting the shore no matter how many time he is pushed away. 

Leaves that blush at the sight of autumn. Dreams that show you the ways out of your maze. Our hearts together so that we may remember the tune.

This is how love might feel for most people, but for me, love is simply you.