Windows

glass and steel and plastic mold

to let the naked eye behold

beyond the frames and tinted hues

a world, alive, revitalized like new

picturing nature and man

side by side, and hand in hand

both realms of reality stand

skyscrapers and trees on the same land

peer out into the pale blue

sky that hides its secrets 

too enamored by the bulbous clouds 

cast over its surface like a sparkling shroud

cast in a glow, bathed

by the sun’s radiant rays

the heat and mirage, set ablaze

the air that ripples like ocean waves

leaves flutter and float in ease

upon wisps of wind 

a gentle breeze

caresses the flowers

till the golden hour  

when birds and crickets, e’vry night, sing and scour 

for a meal, the blissful love of a mate’s to devour 

showered across the sea

are cascading ripples

enveloping thee

amber sand and milky foam

turn silty loam into a home

for animal and man alike

ebb and flow like an endless tide 

changing views as seasons do

man and nature, two by two

shift and change 

like mirrors strange

reflections twisted for minds so vain

look beyond what the eye sees

glass is transparent

but your mind may not be

tangible isn’t always free

-ing because the world exists beyond just the realm

of seeing

portable sheets of glass 

trap worlds behind their dusty masks

in every hand, on every person 

connect across continents

yet ever remain so inconsequent

-ial and loneliness is an epidemic

even when at your fingertips,

each tap connects you to a person you never knew and will always miss

mirror, mirror

on the wall

who’s the fairest of them all?

is it her or is it me

is it someone who will never be

an entity, set foot in this reality

narcissus

that greek lad

who once went mad

as he had

loved to stare at his face, unaware

he’d be cursed by fate

vanity, insanity

madness and creativity

take a look and take a peek

into the lake of eternity

forever disappointed you will be

one man’s trash is another’s treasure

respecting the creatures of this world is a lifelong endeavour

windows, windows

hold my gaze

enrapture those peering eyes, amazed

all to see and nothing to fake

forever this world for us to take

a glimpse, a glance 

bewitched, enchant

those who wish to see

natural beauty in its fragility

Memories of a Bygone Time

If the entire human experience 

could be summed up

within the depths of a cup,

it would overflow with both harmony and discordance.

We hope to aid others, and yet, more often than not, it is aid dressed up in the outfit of a soldier, delivering holy warfare and torture. 

We are not an easily consoled creature.

We constantly seek out contentment, in whatever measures we can hope to find and keep close to our chests,

so that, maybe, at best, we live long enough in that state

to warrant a continued peace and serenity.

Often, this is found present within the existence of greed and money. 

In the memories of a bygone time

of a golden age we swear by

we look back to the childhood we had

in which we, hopefully, remember the sunshine and butterflies,

the relaxation and the passing of time,

that did not fill us with dread as it does now.

A simple life with simple needs,

provided for by other human beings

that loved us and made sure we knew it (I wish this were the case for every human).

We forget the struggles of those who bore us

because we did not know, back then, what was important.

But as we grew, it dawned upon,

these minds of ours, drawn on

hopes and dreams stitched up with seams

easily undone by cruel realities.

Those memories of a bygone time, only fit to help us, 

so, we did well to forget who it hurt.

So, in a way, there was never a “good” age, in which everything was perfect.

Perspective is key in this endeavour.

It would do to be clever

And remember how you frame the world around,

determines the state inside you, yet to be found.

As you grow and as you breathe,

priorities shift,

as do your needs.

No one knows who you are meant to be

except thyself, if you’ll allow thee

to make that choice

to free upon

your battered soul, those chains, drawn,

upon your shoulders, till you could not breathe

that honeyed air, always within your reach.

It is only left to say and find

How do you view yourself and humankind?