A Paradise of Sparrows

A paradise of sparrows Hey little chubby fellows, you aren’t aware of this stranger who’s been drawn close to marvel at your natural beauty, small and delicate coat, the white and brown circular streaks on your feathers, appearing and disappearing, like festive lights they flicker among rows of Forsythia. Hundreds of wings flapping, elevating and plunging together, chasing one another, playing hide-and-seek, Exchanging gifts. Landing on tops of neatly trimmed yellow hedges; skipping swiftly on fresh leafy edges; springing cheerfully up and down bouncy branches. Your boisterous chatter betrays your clever camouflage. Your joyous clamours amaze the curious onlooker. Your agility, more exuberant than the lukewarm sun, lightens a heart burdened with chores and errands. May your vibrancy enliven this quiet neighborhood. May I become a little one in a flock of beckoning youth.   Nameless and timeless A hundred years Two hundred Three hundred Passed; buried; dissolved; gone Nameless; weightless; timeless Unfolding a roll of hidden scrolls Exposes a deserted window to unknown ghosts Photos frayed but feeling real those Friendly faces, unpretentious pose Innocent eyes overflow with stories untold Who are you? How did you come and go? Barefoot all on an earthy floor Simple tools betrothed to shoddy clothes A bleak bare backdrop of old Your colour and character beholds Refugees or revolutionaries? Who are you? How did you come and go? Life long or short not on record Extraordinary is your record Life has yet left a trace On your grinning youthful face Exudes an unfettered will to live A life worthy of praise affirmative But whoever you are And wherever you’re gone We are connected as one As I am gonna be one Among you nameless and timeless A hundred years hence, or less   Another day has passed A day has passed A night has fallen A divide is marked Between past and present The mind runs fast The heart dwells in the past Who cares to mend the tear Before illness catches them unawares So much up-taken and then forgotten The mind keeps raving in fiery pulses No way it can slow or pause, or repulse The force of online propulsions Till all steam transpires and dies With no foreseeable signs Drenched in a marsh of past images: Misfortunes and regrets The heart seeks out the worn-out pages To savour the bitter and the sour Till it knows what it means to be freed And knows it has no means to be freed A night has passed A day is born Into a magnificent sun This momentary beauty Is reaching out to all hearts and minds - Through windowpanes and wanes - In vain   An unspeakable grace My mind emptied to make space For a kind of unspeakable grace Instilled in each placid dancing blade Swaying gradient-shades of grassy jade A palette of wavering ballet veils Hiding shyly that kindness avails I wave hello to the baby snails Locked stock-still on white-clayed scales Little heads out to carefully raise A timid toast to caressing rays Awash in warmth their rain-cooled scapes I know what's joy from their blissful shapes The oval-shaped cavities eaten away By naughty caterpillars on leaves to spray Create a pure form of artistic tray Where fallen petals temporarily stay Before falling to next missions in place Unveil a silent smile on my tight-clayed face I sense thy presence but ne'er thy voice, I'd say God, speak to me and lead me thy holy way Lest I walk astray to a self-built maze Reverberating voices of deep self-praise Mr. Tree he doesn’t grow old he ought to know his strong and handsome arms has earned himself a charmed lady on her journey home wrapped in his outstretched arms a woman’s little crown like a blessed nightingale securing a best-picked branch she’s totally covered in his raincoat soft and stout in anticipation of a furious storm coming in harm’s malicious way soon her fears all melt away his bespoke tuxedo in layers proportionately cut fused in his lemony scent her breath sweetened then he gently kisses her on her chin raised to brush his manly trim his elegant cufflinks best paired for her wedding ring his well-balanced muscles are there for her shine or rain most steadfast partner like Almightly Father the sun comes on yet she refuses to go Mr. tree, you are what you don’t know December 2022 Three hundred and more days lost in a trance Like scarce flowers devoured by overgrown plants Seeds scattered on desolate ground Shadows dissipate without a sound Rewinding the clock is nothing but a sham So is turning the month back to Jan All the magic numbers replayed again From twelve to one there seems no end I’m not yet ready for the turn of year As they merrily count the beats down in a beer When the “merry-go-round” thrusts for another round My heart’s recounting precious times which did abound I’ve missed 2000, 2002 and 2020 on end Now 2022 is hurled towards the same end Here I stand embracing my numerical friend When auld lang syne is bade to human friends A little more kindness for yourself This brain basin is draining bit by bit, like raindrops trickling away drip by drip. Make space and haste for all that reigns Meaningful, above all that’s vain. Turn off the faucet to frivolous lures; channel your forces to self-healing yields. Fill the basin with shimmering hues, till the drain is stained with fabulous gilt. In lieu of an ordinary deluge - some sort of filthy refuse, this drain exudes profuse vitality that flows onto a growing tributary. Free as a bird What a mix of queer noise and chattering Not at all am I bothering My heart’s flying over a calmed sea My mind’s focussed on a blind spot Bodies bustling, rubbing past my shell and skin Not at all am I touched By such frenzy and heat My spirit’s soaring o’er this sea of bodies Why care for temporal happenings, Trivialities not meant for remembering? Setting my mind on intangible things Each minute slows down their crawling This life is but a foggy mist That much flows beyond what’s being seen A quality that never can be seen Shall fly high into eternity I lie still in my coffin Flat as a dried salted fin I still hear them whispering about me Gossip which I shall lend no ear Cowardly my thoughts creep like worms Over my body rotten and stern Why can’t they be laid to rest When my soul sets out for the West? An incense trail spices up my spine Oh what peace I am meant to find If not for that hypnotic hum Even in high-heels I would run! A fleet of my exes finally meet Fortunately I no longer need Trouble to introduce them each My death has come to my relief! Come forth! The jolly lyrical vibe! Set forth your musical rap and pipe Save your tears for someone real Cheers would help me a great deal For I have no spare time to waste And this must be dealt in great haste Soon as my casket’s wheeled down the hall Someone is quick to wipe the floor!