Crown of Moons

A crown of moons above my head appears,

in dreams with me, the four of them as one.

Around the table, together they sit,

of being, doing, lightness, and darkness.

The telling story of migration goes:

farang, lao wai, gweilo, mwenye, hindiye.

Yet, love in madness for you, the loner,

the separate outsider; it does exist.

Combine, confront, for the hybrid defies 

all notions — of master, place, or servant,

to solve the mystery of what we are, spin

quartet, crown of moons upon my head and ear.

You —


       the sweet, 













  within my 


into my hips,


     to my  


You —

              are the pure nectar 

       that thrills me

  to bloom,


You —

    leave a 







you —

   are in me, 

       all around me,




The Lake

Branches lean into each other,

forming an archway

for us two, to amble through,

holding hands as we do

beside the still lake.

Yellow leaves spin as the wind

offers them a moment

of weightless hope,

whistling by as we do

before the soft fall.

We peer into each other’s eyes,

into the deepest mystery of all,

searching for perfection,

and that what we find

is our own reflection.

Into the Light

I trip and slip through the cracks,

free fall into the dark

of the underworld,

into the depths

of past lifetimes.

Gravity pulls me down

and back a few hundred years,

to be buried deep

beneath the roots,

where the air is cold and damp.

And then, a feather of warmth

lightly flutters over my face.

My eyes crack open and my gaze turns

up towards the source.

There’s a fire of golden healing light.

I sigh!

It’s up too high

above the ground

past the the soil, and even the leaves,

Up high beyond the sky.

With deliberation I

dust off and unfold

out of my tightly

crouched position.

In slow motion I uncoil.

My creaky joints

and leathery skin,

they could do

with some warmth

and indeed, some oil.

I’m drawn towards the light,

As a plant would be.

Lifetimes it takes, to stand


To help, I press into my toes.

I glimpse up, my fingers out,

trembling from the full reach.

Other fingertips inch down for me.

They try to grab me, to pull me,

up into the light.

I jump up and down, invoking

fire and air, the God of dance,

water, and the warriors of times gone by,

and I lean, and continue to reach,

tiptoe even higher,

and then, those fingers

they catch mine.

How Paradoxical…

It’s becoming more real

As it comes closer and closer

The virus,

Both physically

and from the personal stories

Of those we love

And their loved ones

The blue waters,

The green valleys

How peaceful,

How paradoxical

They whisper, “keep calm”

And they remind us, “this is the way of nature.”

But the nerves are edgy

The weight shedding.

Sleep is more haphazard

How absurd

How paradoxical

Given we are mostly in our homes

Out of our daily busy-ness.

We tremble and stutter

From the visceral connection

Of our families’ and friends’ uncertainties

Their difficulties, illnesses, separation, and


They could be ours.

They will be ours.

How empathic,


How paradoxical

Quite uncanny,

The calm in the streets the world over

Some households have finally become homes.

We go back and forth

Even multiple times in a day.

From moments of release

Of beautiful movements and togetherness

To a possibly horrific situation

If we allow our fears to take over

To hold the reigns.


Into the unknown we travel,


Into the darkness.

Scared yes,

But we will be slaying dragons and monsters.

No longer fully in control, yes.

At least not the way we thought it was meant to be

But remember

The blue waters

And the green valleys,

Listen to their advice:

Breathe deeply,

And trust.

Feel the ground beneath

And the love within.

We will hold hands,

And hug and kiss again.


Into the depths of despair

She plunges head first

Fingertips break through

Not even a splash

She confuses fatigue with darkness

She searches for routine, for stability

And just as naturally

She comes up,

Fingers reach for the surface

A gasp of air, a lift

She looks out at the view

Life breathes all around her

And inside her

Creativity fills her lungs

And pulses through her

Then back down she dives,


Into the depths of the unknown

Because that’s just the way it works

Together our Hearts Beat

Time for change, pandemics can do that

Readily force us out of routine

A new social order is soon to befall

Tapping our feet to inaudible drums

Together our hearts beat

Dum da dum da dum da dum

Here we are it’s 2020

Wearing gloves, masks, and hand gel

Socially responsible, that’s the game

Tapping our feet to inaudible drums

Together our hearts beat

Dum da dum da dum da dum

Social distancing to flatten the curve

These are our new buzz words

Keep hydrated, sleep well, eat healthy!

Tapping our feet to inaudible drums

Together our hearts beat

Dum da dum da dum da dum

Island of Dreams

Sometimes alone

Sitting and watching

The breath recharging

At other times included


A sense of belonging

Living on this island

Of dreams

Of pirates and no rules

A paradise of stillness

in its views

Forgetting the suffering

of the confused

First the old, then the young,

All are presumed

In our utopian world

Lost in its intricacies

We, the marginals

come together,

Running, hiding from old stories

Living on this island

Of dreams;

Of treasure chests yet to be found

A paradise of

Sweet smelling jasmine growing out of the ground

And yet here we are

Dare we say,

Enjoying the day to day,

the mundane,

even the sighs

Maybe next lifetime

We will be butterflies