A beetle begins its shift
where the day left off~
at the edge of a stone
it has moved before.
It tests the surface first,
tapping once with an antenna,
then proceeds,
lifting each leg deliberately
as though the ground requires
confirmation.
A pebble blocks its path.
It pauses,
gives a soft scrape,
nudges it half an inch
then continues,
the adjustment noted
only by the beetle itself.
On bark,
its carapace catches
the a pale pull of light~
a thin, ancestral shimmer
that recalls the long night
its kind has always known.
It inspects a fallen leaf,
turning it slightly
to read the underside~
a task completed nightly,
never hurried,
never skipped.
By dawn,
nothing looks changed,
though the beetle has worked
every inch
of its small world.
And yet the dark feels steadier
even in our quiet daily labors~
minute corrections
that keep the hours aligned,
and meaningful
until the first pale light
lifts the edges of the day
and carries work
forward.
Pink fringed lotus,
stunning leaf floater,
suffusing pond surface,
beneath sapphire sky,
in stoic city pond,
charming capture,
casual strollers peep,
as vim skims,
reflection of visages,
luscious liquid stream,
fluid canvas,
water in atmosphere.
or pool intensifies,
navy blue welkin,
august morning shift,
in shade or tint,
hue’d reservoir,
sapphire firmament,
a momentary pause,
for zestful urbanite,
bowl-shape flora,
or vapored vault,
coalescing influence,
bridging distance,
town dynamism,
lush environment,
bosom buddy treaty
The old world burned
to feed progress
coal, smoke, oil
profit without pause.
But the earth remembers
every wound
every forest fallen
every poisoned stream.
Now a shift begins
toward cleaner futures
toward machines
that heal more than harm.
Green is no trend
It is necessity
Tomorrow belongs
to sustainable minds.
Here's my cant hear me rant...
these are not a few of my favourite things
as it makes those who say them
sound like ding-a-lings
when people preface each sentence with 'So'
respond 'That's a very good question'
in reply to my query
or consistenly repeat the words 'You know'
and 'Like' inserted arbitrarily
in every other expressed
phrase unnecessarily
leaves me thinking 'Similar to?'
then instead of 'Hello'
to others they are meeting
whether friends or strangers
think 'Hey' an acceptable greeting
yet in the English language
it's really quite the shift
when they lift a verb from a noun
one such example being 'Gift'
Moon smiles as I drive home in the morning
She laced her shoes and faced the dawn
A nurse's love? I'll say "be warned"
As hands this soft can change your fate
Where drugs and needles can't equate
With weary eyes she sees through all
With thickened coats and armored jaws
Behind closed doors she guards the flame
In times of war remains unnamed
When all has crumbled life goes on
A tearful moment can't be prolonged
A hero's cape though bold and bright
May sometimes look like scrubs in white
head melds with heart and thoughts recede
synced with gong Om, the void’s our home
free from desires, on earth we roam
ego dissolves, love takes the lead
heart-centric soul begins to glow
resistance ends; we gently flow
bliss pheromones begin to breed
pulsating within day and night
God bestows spherical sight
we live as of need, not of greed
our eye’s mindful and touch gentle
for the most part, nonjudgmental
one with oneness, our will we cede
Breathed by God, we see Him within
His grace erases every sin
head melds with heart and thoughts recede
ego dissolves, love takes the lead
bliss pheromones begin to breed
we live as of need, not of greed
one with oneness, our will we cede
sometimes it requires
a phase shift, rather than a
tilt, lean, sag or bend,
to shine a bright beacon light ~
to see, and be seen, in sync
Our blessings aren't always adorned with ribbons that looks like a celebration
It can be a random hello that might delay your trip but protect you from harm
It's a smile that connects you with a stranger
You never knew you needed
I guess if you walk in expectation
It does not matter who tries to rain on your parade
It will be your reaction that determines the atmosphere you find yourself in
Don't hold onto the hate and malice you are dealt
Those who spew that will ultimately get it back
You don't have to alter who you are to please someone who is unhappy in their own skin
Hold onto your spirit; your resilience and your faith
Remember what they sometimes hate in you is what is missing in their lives
©16062025
In colors he bloomed, with a big red nose,
He chose the job where laughter grows.
There he stood in rounded boots,
With a grin of mischief and playful hoots.
Dressed like a child, his costume loose,
A floppy hat, a bright jumpsuit.
Then came the rain--it cleared the crowd,
While the magician watched, silent and proud.
And through the downpour, something broke through
A glimpse of the man, not masked, but true.
His smile turned down, a burdened frown,
Grief wrapped tight in his circus gown.
He vanished with no tear, no trace,
Just silence held in a painted face.
He ends his shift, no cheers, no song,
As a joker he smiled, as a joker he belonged
The sun was so friendly, he shot out a ray,
but when nighttime approached, he could no longer stay.
The sun hit the ocean, and the moon hit the sky
as the stars twinkled Helios a bashful goodbye.
But ol' Sol will be back, so you needn't weep -
he'll return in the morning when stars go to sleep.
crucifixion
a shift
shaking the perspective
of subject and object
My buddy will always be
like poetry.
But sadly,
the poetry itself caused suddenly
an emotional rift.
And I thought
she will be standing firmly
at her stand
and I would remain feeling
stupidly upper hand and silently drift.
But she
proved herself to be the better one
just to make me realise graciously
a real buddy bond does not ever
break or shift
and showed me thawing my heart
with the sweet surprise of a
buddy caring gift.
(26.03.2025)
Once I was blind, lost in my own way,
As forms change around me, night turns to day.
It’s wondrous to see the stars shining bright,
The moon swaying gently in the cool night.
We rush through our lives, unaware of the speed,
Caught in our routines, like plants from a seed.
We miss how the world spins and transforms,
Like clay from a pot, lost in its forms.
We have ice so white, while flowers bloom near,
In life’s endless struggle, we persevere.
Time shifts like a wheel, spinning so fast,
It’s tough to keep up, we’re losing our grasp.
Art and knowledge give so much to our kind,
While the ignorant dwell, with limits they find.
Those left behind in the traveler’s race,
End up resenting those who’ve found their place.
Left in the dust, feeling worn and alone,
While others rush past, claiming their throne.
But the best is to be in the midst of the flow,
As civilization reaches for light from below.
Ding, ding, ding.
My phone is on the table.
I haven’t answered anyone yet.
I haven’t answered anyone all morning.
I remember things.
I spilled cereal that morning.
That’s when the shift started.
I looked around.
Someone is saying things.
Bird seed spilled on the ground.
Which reminds me.
Of being able to fly.
A past life and I.
Ding, ding, ding.
I turn off my phone at night.
But still.
The sound.
A shift.
Lying down and hovering above the sheets.
I turn off the light again.
I turn off the light again.
I turn off my phone again.
I haven’t answered anyone all week.
I could throw my phone in the ocean.
Except I don’t live by the ocean.
Evil laughter ensues.
Crying is something they don’t know about.
But I think they are investigating me.
I could sleep at night.
They don’t care though so why bother?
A shift.
It could have started yesterday.
I used to sleep.
Ding, ding, ding.
I have 36 unread messages.
I counted them all.
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