Micropoetry

October flurries reminding us
we’re not in control
of anything
at all
.

Words of tots like leaves of trees
Full of color when they fall

If you think the obvious
May have been stated
Look into why it
Was articulated
But if you detest
To be in the quest
You may have embarked
On a journey ill-fated

Consider now that covenant primordial
From every soul endowed prophetic sight;
They witnessed it as one submission cordial
To flush a heart, and fill a cave, with Light.

Waves

A sign
That everything goes
With the highs
And the lows
Till it dies
On the shores
Of time

Graves

If time were in your hands, you’d have the power
To alter destinies, and if you sought,
You’d travel a millennium or hour,
Accelerating at the speed of thought.

Consider now the placing of the sun
In one hand, while the other takes the moon;
It’s one way lordship over time is spun:
Balāghah serving waḥy on a spoon.

Sometimes it takes a simple sprain

To reconnect the heart and brain

I make the journey every week
To sit under this tree
That shades me from the burning heat
Of ignorance; I’m free

To breathe the air its leaves exhale,
To hear the rustle sound
That makes its fragrant blossoms sail
In silence to the ground.

Hope is a call
That springs from within
It’s voiced by the faith
Of a soul that is in
A struggle for freedom
From falling in sin

It’s okay to fall
But best heed the call
And rise up again

strength is a function
of patience
but when it is not
it morphs into what
may be the destruction
of nations