The Encounters

Who on earth gave
the idea that we
must steal hearts,
and that it was the
ultimate goal there is?

Why not steal the mind,
the eye, the soul?
How can life be understood
through just one
unexplained being
all consuming?

Mustn’t we have friends
with whom we can converse
under the rainbow about
how the color we see is
anything but what we see?

Mustn’t we have companions
who love the Knight and Rook
as much as we do, even more, perhaps,
whose moves make us wiser?

Mustn’t we have pals
whose silly laughs are an
antidote to aging?

How can life be contained
in one single being
all consuming?

So we live
through every being we cross;
a part of us in them,
a part of them in us.

Never the same
after the encounter –
no matter how
brisk or muffled.

Classic or Clown

They speak of names,
like they are friends –
those names I have only heard of;
never read.

I am told,
the craft in front
is not what it is supposed to be;
they don’t tell me I can’t
neither do they say I can.

Classic or clown,
who can tell.

Transient

The transient moment

when one conversation

is over, and I wait for the next,

searching for eyes that

might accidentally meet mine,

that transient moment

surrounded by faces –

smiling, welcoming,

I understand what alone means

for three seconds.

I go off to find the next.

The Fall

The heavy sky
laden with dark clouds-
it’s weight unbearable,
yet refusing to fall
over the grounds as
droplets of tear.

When comes the next morning
the wind has blown,
but where do they go – really?
Don’t they return
till they fall over the grounds?