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Invaded Identity

entry picture

I am me

Who said this? 

So is my body

An invaded custody

Occupied by her

Thoughts and memories

Two sided glossaries

Not a reflection is mine

That would determine

My own identity

Out of my sanctity


I may be a string

Of any cacophonous Sitar

Where she creates

On my wounds

Riot of sounds

Without bounds

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From Where I Sit: Music and Movement

A small flock of unidentified birds

flies into the skeleton trees

and disappears.


What magic is this?


Smoke from the boiler-house chimney,

at the mercy of the fickle wind,

blows this way and that, confused

unstopping, white, following the music

of Mozart's violins: moving, then still

- a crescendo starts to build -

- falls away to keen -

- a lull -



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birdsemotionsMozartmusicsoundsview from a window

The Dawn

"It's coming!"
The excited chatter began
among the blades of grass
Damp with dew
Clamouring with anticipation
of a new day
But that sunrise
with its hues of pinks, blues and
smiling white clouds
was born to be seen
and exploded silently
All the better to listen
The hedges crinkled in admiration
The fields cooed one by one
Even the surliest of trees
blinked in th...

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