Dear Stranger

Hey, how are you?

Either the tags brought you here, or maybe you’ve been here once before, perhaps it’s neither.

Either way, welcome, and thank you for stopping by.

I hope your days have been filled with bright sunshine, and mesmerizing sunsets.

Or if it’s been raining, I hope you’re still able to appreciate the fresh feeling that comes after, as if the world has been cleansed.

I hope every time it rains, you’re able to remember your childhood,

and the memories of how fun it was to play under the rain.

I hope you don’t forget the joyful sound of your laughter as it blends with the tapping sound of the rain

as it hits the roof, the pavement, the earth.

I hope that on days when the heat becomes unbearable, you were provided relief

by the wind, and that there was always a gentle breeze to lighten your burdens.

I hope your nights have been filled with the magic that rides the moonbeams;

I hope that you’ve been able to see the stars sparkle amidst the clouds and the interference of the city lights.

I hope you’ve had a chance to walk barefoot, just to feel the earth;

to touch the trees and hear them as they whisper to each other,

passing great truths that perhaps we’ll never understand in this lifetime.

I hope that you’re able to smile genuinely, sharing moments with your closest people

as your most authentic self – I bet you just shine, and that would be quite a sight.

I hope that even if you are alone, you’ve found the right way to love yourself without feeling lonely or empty.

I hope you never resent the freedom that comes from being alone-it’s an opportunity to focus on yourself until the right person comes along.

Oh, there’s still so much to say, but I’m running out of paper,

and you might also be thinking that i’ve rambled on.

But let me say just one last thing…

On days when you feel lost because you haven’t found your passion and your purpose,

and feel that you’ve been searching for too long,

I hope you can accept the thought, that perhaps our only purpose is to live this life.

To live it with passion and openness to experiencing this life in this shell –

to feel the rain, the sunshine, the breeze;

to find the wonder and magic when you gaze at the moon;

to hear the rustling of the leaves with the passing wind;

to walk barefoot, and to laugh and be like a child.

Thanks again for stopping by, I hope you always find the courage to keep going, and

I hope your days ahead are always peaceful and happy.

a letter to the one who walked away

to you, who walked out on that rainy October afternoon,

or was it July? i can’t seem to remember, all i can recall was the rain.

i heard the wind whisper that you were lonely,

and regretful of what’s been done;

that you think of me, that you would like to come back,

and that you wake up in the middle of the night unable to find rest, thinking of me.

please don’t…

you might not see this, or perhaps you will,

but i still want to whisper back to the wind,

i forgive you, i forgive me for whatever part i played

in your regret, in your loneliness, in your restlessness,

in your unhappiness, and why you left what i thought was good.

please don’t come back,

i am in a place where the spaces i used to fill with all your parts

are no longer empty, i’ve grown a garden in all the small pockets,

watering them each day with a lot of kindness

where i can find them,

the flowers have bloomed, and they are beautiful.

i’ve filled the jars that used to hold your memories

with starlight, sunshine, and moonlight.

i’ve fallen in love with the moon you see,

i’ve become friends with the sunset,

and i’ve parted ways with who i was then.

please don’t come back,

i like the peace i’m in, i love the new leaves that have sprung

from the branches that used to hold your promises;

i love the joy that each bud brings,

the way they curl before unfolding, as if stretching

themselves to look for the sun.

please don’t come back, nor think of me,

because i’m getting to know this new me,

we talk endlessly, we cry and let go, and learn and relearn;

i haven’t fully mastered walking in my new limbs,

i still fall and falter once in a while,

but i cherish the stumbles, they bring moments of clarity.

please don’t think of coming back,

because there is no longer any space for you,

and the spaces i have left empty are waiting

for what the universe deems worthy to take their place.

please don’t come back,

i used to say that meeting you felt like destiny working behind the scenes,

and it was indeed true – you were a difficult lesson i had to learn.

but thank you for breaking me,

thank you for walking away, because i never could have had the courage to break you,

thank you for your kindness.

i hope you find your peace, i wish you well.

Mother’s Day

it’s mother’s day, and i told my mother, i love you,

i kissed her on the cheek and held her.

i grew up watching her take charge of the family.

when i was young, i thought she could do anything,

i saw her as a strong woman, a super woman,

juggling her profession as a teacher and

taking care of three hard headed children –

my father was away majority of the time during those years.

and my elder brothers and i would not listen

whenever she told us to stay home while

she went to work, or sleep during siesta,

we’d sneak out and run to my cousin’s house and play

until the sun was at its peak or until it sets.

and then we’d panic when we heard her whistle,

it was one of the most striking sounds in my childhood memory.

we’d scurry and run home as if our lives depended on it;

we’d see her standing by the gate, akimbo.

her face stern, eyes squinting because of the sun,

or perhaps she was sizing us up and how we’d be punished,

as if choosing a weapon in a video game – a belt, a broom, a meter stick or a slipper.

and in those moments, my mother had such a daunting presence – to me

she was as big as a boulder, a mountain unmovable,

a towering cloud, a force to be reckoned with,

i was in awe.

and with each slap on the butt i would cry,

but it wasn’t from the pain;

with each strike i could feel

her tiredness, her worries, her pain,

her dreams that could no longer come to fruition,

her youth slowly retreating in the shadows,

her love entangled with distress,

and her desperation to be a good mother.

we grew up eventually…

sometimes i’d forget to pray for my mother,

and i regret those moments…

my mother, once like an unmovable mountain,

has shrunk and i can now enclose her in an embrace

with enough space for a another person a third of her size,

so i hold her even tighter,

love spilling over from my bucket

as i squeeze her in my embrace;

her eyes are almost in a permanent squint,

wrinkles now line her face,

but i hope that despite her sacrifices,

her tired body, and the unfulfilled dreams from her youth,

that she’s been happy, and felt loved.

i see the laugh lines when she smiles,

and i think to myself, all is well.

The Lady in the Emerald Green Kaftan

I’d often see this lady in her beautiful kaftan dresses in different shades of green.

Everyday at six, as I pass by on my way home,

I’d see her sitting on her porch –

a jade green tea set on the tea table beside her, a Birman sitting comfortably on her lap

as she sips from her tea cup elegantly.

Sometimes, she’d wear a kaftan with bold prints, but always in a shade of green –

fern, clover, kale, majestic wine, teal, sea glass,

but she looked the most exquisite in her silk emerald green kaftan.

She wears this with her long pearl necklace, and a pair of wedding rings on her left ring finger.

She carries herself with a quiet elegance when she walks, even with a cain,

and the Birman purring and trotting close behind.

Sometimes, I’d see her through her window – immersed in a slow dance to Julie London’s I’m in the Mood for Love,

holding a green checkered shirt close to her bosom, lovingly;

her eyes closed and a sweet smile on her lipstick stained lips.

And the light from the living room chandelier envelopes her in a warm halo of nostalgia,

making her glow with such joy and contentment,

and it makes me smile, and i say to myself, “Seems simple enough…”

and I whisper silently, “I want a love like that too.”

Untitled [25.03.2019]

These brief encounters

leave my heart throbbing,

as if a faint pulsating loneliness

slowly permeates and wraps itself

around the indelible memories

of our small farewells.

Clouds and Cotton Candy

I looked up and saw clumps

of clouds against a blue sky…

it was nostalgic…they reminded me of

cotton candy

which melts in the heat between your index and thumb…

dissolving on your tongue

leaving a sugary aftertaste…

field-clouds-sky-earth-46160-1-640x484

 

 

Her Last Love Letter

Dear M., she wrote
in lovely strokes and beautiful cursive…

in each line…love letter
she poured out her heart
ending each sentence with
a tear…and a fragment of the love that still clung to each cell
of her battered heart…

she wrote of their memories…
of lessons learned…of realizations…
of the love they once shared…
of what was left of who they once were
to one another…

and she wrote her goodbye…
a painful farewell
to all the years they shared…
the plans they made…the promises…
the dreams they dreamed together…
the intimate moments…
and to the piece of her heart which only belonged to M…

03.24.15

photo from: http://270c81.medialib.glogster.com/media/fc/fcda4471fb3fda01d182be3a145fa8e27a461837c4764c85882e4b4f1f672c47/poems-for-broken-hearts-001-jpg.jpg photo from: http://270c81.medialib.glogster.com/

and so we made love for the last time…after a long time…
and i saw that there was nothing left for us…

it was over…

and even while you were holding me
i saw that you weren’t seeing me…
your mind was far away…
somewhere you would not let me reach…

it was over…

and even when you were kissing me
your mind was imagining someone else…
it breaks my heart to realize
that what we had has now been reduced to memories
that cling and hover over me…
a constant reminder of how we used to be…

11.17.12

and when she saw that glint
of sadness in your eyes
did she ask you if you wanted to go
or whether you wanted to stay?
or did she take your face in her hand
and distract you with her seductive
kiss to make you forget
the sadness which clings to you?…

and when she felt the disregard
and the coldness in your touch
did she ask you if you loved her
and whether you still wanted her?
or did she take you in her arms
and laid your head to her bosom
to make you inhale her hypnotic scent
and lulled you into forgetting
your past love?…

and when she heard the hollowness
in your voice during rare conversations
did she ask you what your heart was feeling
and what it whispered in silence?
or did she sing you her song
to take your mind away from
the memories which you held intensely?…

did she love you?…does she love you still?…
how did she love you?…how much did she love you?
does my love compare?

Uninvited

your memories are quite

perverse sometimes –

they come uninvited…

and they linger…teasing me

like ripples – caressing the surface

of calm waters – undulating…

and i am always left defenseless –

unable to cast them out of

my mind..they simply mingle

with the chaos that already

exists within…