Morning sunrise breathed light in filagree
burnishing colorful waves across the sea
It delicately wove golden threads of lace
in dawn's sky while it warmed my face
I smiled at the sea's luminous shimmers
as it moved in rhythmic dappled glimmers
The sun's brilliant shades of topaz and maize
seemed to set the sea aflame in a fiery blaze
I watched my footsteps stolen from the sand
by frothy fingers smuggled as contraband
A flock arrived; their squawks heard as a cheer
The avian's call to breakfast I could plainly hear
Seagulls sang together in a raucous symphony
as dawn in glorious beauty, revealed her litany
They kept watch for light appearing in the East
as the signal it was time for the day's first feast
It was such a wondrous morning upon the cape
as sunlight artfully painted a stunning seascape
Summer storms are thrashing
trees overladen with a lush glut
of arboreal heaviness.
Will the Fall enter through this crashing rain,
shall the canopy of a saturated season
crash now one leaf at a time?
I see fire in the sodden green,
it struggles to glow
and yet I watch it grow, become
and filter through.
The gale breaks not a single stem,
yet a more temperate breeze
hammers silently, burnishing,
a tinkering with copper shades
until at last an Autumn glaze
dabbles with bright or umber shades
and one leaf gently drops.
These are the stones
that ground dull nails and sharpened talons,
they have slid under mountains of ice and fire,
are polished by the grind of a glacial momentum.
The stones endure now as layers of motion
sealed within catchments of stillness;
some are wind-tools shaped by a tireless chisel,
other’s glint with a history and crushed starlight.
The river has left signs of its scouring trace.
I turn a stone over –
look backward to a molten world,
imagining the imperceptible burnishing
of such relentless forces.
Thought is a fish out of water here,
mind at one with the ice floes momentum,
a witness to the passing away of all density,
the defeat of every bulwark in the stream
of this rivering,
this endless whittle of creation.
A time of unrest like never before seen
While basic structures of society crumble,
Families lacking in simple cohesiveness
Schools accused of burnishing history
Churches falling into dismal hypocrisy
Rabble-rousers lurch toward anarchy,
Simple folks questioning whom to trust
Muckrakers telling us what to believe,
Respect for our leaders at its lowest ebb
Hearing the voices of conspiracies spread,
While a pandemic continues unabated
We, the masses saturated with ignorance.
written September 10, 2021
O’ my Sun,
you bestow me the ray, to live…
to love…
You shine over the drought-land
of my heart…
making it prolific…
to dream
my beam!
Stay burnishing over me
all the days & nights
all the seasons & instants…
without winking for
a whilst…
09:42 pm | Sunday, June 7, 2019
Sol struggles to peek through curtains of rain,
as sporadic sunshine pierces the gloom.
And yet, His persistence is not in vain,
His light fueling wildflowers to bloom
spread out before Him in their spring costume.
Droplets glisten in the air like jewels,
offsetting the dreariness of the day.
And rippling rays reflect off mirrored pools,
inviting the songbirds to come out to play
and participate in Sol's spring ballet.
Gloomy grey clouds no longer bar His way
as He glazes the sky with liquid light,
and colored blossoms are put on display
as their petals open in the sunlight,
reaching up to heaven, no clouds in sight.
A brisk breeze rustles the top of the trees,
burnishing their leaves an emerald green.
The air is abuzz with foraging bees
ferrying sweet nectar back to their Queen
while blue butterflies beautify the scene.
Blanketed like silky chiffon amongst
a babe’s soft scent,
allured into the morn’s glory with
sunbeams burnishing the dew
bellowing on a white rose’s blade.
The luster expressed has been
tempted by the reasoning of love’s
natural resounding essence-
For it has been done,
and will always be gifted amongst
the layers of soft grass laying across
emerald fields.
Patination reveals its abstract face-
all things it envelopes begins and
ends with a moment of strength.
Forever willing to be caught in the
middle of creation’s first breath,
it lusters once again,
into shades of verdigris crimson.
Covering the valleys of rolling hills,
reaching heights of a mount and
its efflorescent rock,
a strong coating of marvel frees
it from the weakness it longs for.
No longer is the patina willing to
ease a troubled mind,
yet-
it seeks what is and what was
never to become.
Patina Poetry Contest
July 1, 2018
smoothness
imbued with character
his essence
imbedded deeply
in every crevice
sweet oils
of everyday labor
lubricating
its monotony
burnishing
the hard patina
of life
©6/29/2018
for Patina Poetry Contest
When are we gonna leave this mood
You keep dreaming under the roof of imagination that you are with this person
And for how long are we gonna keep snaping in our head
The sounds alone keep making it real and steady active
We are now busy with imaginariness
When is this fiction transform to non fiction
We have the master plan and we haven’t taken a step into action and we keep wallowing.
Al Quran is the manual, a roadmap to follow
but it is not easy to see these treasures, we only saw them once and since then we ve been in imaginary.
The birds are pilot, they are nimble they go boundlessly and they are kings in the air
who create creat them if not ALLAH SWT
We are left with the option to consult the birds if they could help
We are now objects of mockery and ridicule in the eyes of birds
Because they are full of actions and we are the shyest of creature
They tagged us “Existing but inactive”
And they said
Hope you aren’t jaded of this your unsure awaiting love
We would avail and we hope your unreal burnishing love will not reverse to waning love.
Truly love is found but it must be followed Islamically
Here by the green glades and the babbling brook
Waters cascading bright like silver foam
The breeze rustling through pages of my book
Bring memories flooding of my sweet home
Where the sun reflects on the silent pool
Waters falling on rocks like silver spray
Trees resplendent in green, shady and cool
Skies darkening, turning a sullen gray
The setting sun burnishing gold, the trees
Sending bright shafts of golden glitter sprays
Sweet blooms dancing so gaily in the breeze
Like through a prism forming rainbow rays
Skies painted in range of hues bright and bold
Violet, pink, purple, orange, red and gold.
Deep as defeat as conspicuous
As the influx of presentiment
Passion is aimless humility
Panic is native to injury
Reasoning divulging odium
Sparkles unchosen but chemical
Puritans' speechless delivery
Idles in syllables neutral to
Carpet biology tapestries
Woven in Persian but personal
Surfaced in diamonds and sodium
Burnishing flavorful scaffolding
Sauntering over the savagery
Blanketing social impurity
Witnesses! Silence the speechlessness!
Caution the ignorant eagerly!
Woe as the end of the suffering
Millions of eyes as the visual.
You
You are my moon by night: silvering my dreaming sleep,
Limelighting my fond imaginings and phantom hopes.
You are my sun by day: gilding my wakened thoughts,
Burnishing my desires and heartfelt yearnings.
You are azure sky in Winter: reminder of coming Spring,
Harbinger of future love and joy.
You are warm rain in Summer: laying a dusty past,
Rejuvenating the lost enthusiasms of Autumn.
When, in Winter’s cold grip, I pass in review the
Ranks of memories, there are you.
A quiet grace to bring me calm, sparkling eyes and
Sharpened wit to prick dull days.
So like You.
The sun has lifted
the weight of my day,
and sweeps gloom away,
burnishing each cloud
with bright golden rays
A dreary day,
and weary me,
finds glory in
divine display
Gold unfolds,
over the
horizon...
where I
see the
light
____________________________________________________
Inspired By Dr. Ram's Contest: "Hope" Diminished Hexaverse
1/8/15
Beyond midnight her tears distil,
burnishing the valley between
her height of hope and depth of pain;
till dusky waves awash her dawn.
From whence comes these soldiers?
pure grapes trodden under the feet of fate...
before her eyes the moon did melt,
and cloudy wind gave rise to warmth.
The whirlwind blew away her bole,
her fountain flows still for her child,
the looming death defaced all her calm hours
and spoiled the night, hotly, in haste.
Would God that she had immunized
her baby before the whirlwind roared.
The stars are speechless tonight,
the voice of the night lost its luster
the tears of her grief splashes like raindrops,
on the huts of ages long gone...without rooftops.
The spirits came knocking at the door;
the walls are broken, the keys are safe.
Her child like autumn leaves fell from its bole;
and swept away by the cold hands of candle-light.
O the beauty of vanity, the glory of mortality!
strength and faith fail the strong and mighty...
twilight trails the terrain of the tough and tender,
leaving the mark of pleasure, pain and passion;
unspoken, unheard yet seen in the sands of times.
Beyond midnight her tears distil,
burnishing the valley between
her hieght of hope and depth of
pain;
till dusky waves awash her dawn.
From whence comes these
soldiers?
pure grapes trodden under
fate's feet,
before her eyes the sun did sob,
and cloudy wind gave rise to
warmth.
The whirlwind blew away her
bole,
her fountain flows still for her
child,
Polio defaced all her calm hours
and spoiled the day, hotly, in
haste.
Would God that she had
immunized
her baby before whirlwind
roared.
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