Forest Flowers


Hibiscus blooming

sweet nectar scents the air 

in the depths where love awaits.. 

quiet ruler, holy color; 

that mingles with a warm embrace,

reviving in its heart of joy.

Passion and power are intertwined

in the petals of the forest flowers;

the soft form of life's delicate treasure.

When morning comes,

the wind rustles our skin with the sun,

so that we too can start

our natural unfolding

into something new 




Spring Returns


Have you heard

that even butterflies

wake up after being frozen

in the deep cold earth ?

Where you thought maybe

all had died

the golden ray of sunlight

awakens even the deepest

sleeper if the heart is open

just for a moment

spring can enter.

Your joy was not burned

life was just taking a long pause

in between breathing


and out



Radiant Hearts


My sister,

deep breathed

earth torn

bare breasted


hungry hands

tuck at your sleeve

may rip out a piece

may take more than..

in their despair

will you silence the hour

turn your face

to the comfort of forgetting

to conditions of bliss

or will you plant

a strong rooted tree?


for whom to see..

whom to seek..

my brother,


melting ice river

no time to sigh

no time to hide

past mistakes

your echo still waits

even if no one taught you

how to take down the armor

how to stop a battle midway through

how to pull out the rusty sword

from your own chest, first

to go through labor

push or pull

life into being

forever taking in the first breath

(with the price of forever letting out the last)

doors open at your command

sand not, but water does, make its way

even through a closed hand

fist against stone walls

until you see the opening

needs soft touch to understand

while mirror watches all-in awe

deep breath



Forest Path


Maybe there has been a time
where the world was not divine
but the trees had whispered rites
scars from gods that could change fate,
in the blink of their lonesome eyes;
(tortured weights to angel's flight)
As they stood
in front of mossy walls, guarding identities
against the slumbering murmur of the All;
who was once an arid seed
lingering in the doors of
Desire and need
blown from left to right,
(composing score)
thrown away by most
modern hands searching for their hunger
'cause its use was not seen
in their demands,
swallowed up by the earthen floor
fertile to let go (of the burden for being "more')
everything was a feeling, a song from within
When it dreamed the only dream
of that oceanic summer field
which would birth the fortunate hour
where we married the sun's golden beam
as she sings about death and returning,
and how much we need to step through
the gates to feel the yearning,
without intruding
the "me" and the "you"
sensing they could have been as one
has that time passed, or yet to come ?
Though we know how to be frozen
soft and steady,
tundra flowers come forth already
sooner or later... germination's gap
will be the anomaly from the heavy-heavy
rivers flow and quench the core
jump forth to shed the shell
(that's been constricting us deeply;)
reaching the shore
choose the path where we can be
revealed ; a silver key that chimes
as it turns to something real
leaning into the blindness,
ever so sweetly
forgive the numbing silence