Reflections of reflections mirrors to my soul if I made it so far surely my words can walk you a few steps more to that calm place deep within your mind where tiny footsteps echo the passing of time where another year passes with verse to delight speckled in the air little droplets of light.
Zugzwang: (Chess) a situation where any decision or move taken is a serious, and often, decisive disadvantage. I was ready to quit, wasn’t I? To throw in the towel I had had enough No more attachments, I said. Then I looked into your face Those eyes I could not escape You put me in zugzwang …
Yarling: wailing, howling There’s a litchi tree somewhere And it is mine That is where I turn to To hide among the branches That sweep To the ground. I buried your ashes there Beneath That litchi tree That they cut down They would not listen, ” that tree” They said “Has to be gone”. Under…
Xenization: (doing something) as a stranger In my xenization I have roamed places I thought I out-grew not one of the people I met wore a mask I thought I knew. I pushed on, a mitfit and an outcast in masks that smelled of mildew till I returned to stare at your face the only…
Wilding: that which grows without cultivation I harvest the words in fits and starts snatched from a dream a melting heart a phrase here a thought out there wilding words that weave into verse burst into song weep and delight to create a poem that is my life.
Vagant: roaming, wandering Age has levied its toll on my heart this old heart that breathes with me walks with me and teaches me the songs to save. There are no tolls though, on my vagant soul which still whistles back at the moon and rides the crest of every wave.
Tacent: silent the white lotus bursts into sudden symphony shattering the tacent night with shards of sweet music that pierce the soul with their fragrance #wayra
Rillet: small brook or stream the clouds provide no cover the nights cannot conceal the lines this heart will trace on the skies made sticky with tears that rillet down my upturned face
Quisle: To betray Through the dark twists of the night I follow the moon as it whistles dreading the morning light as it bears down to quisle my dreams mid-flight.
Ostiary: Door-keeper, servant at the entrance of a building. waking in a dream I tiptoe into moonlight your door stands ajar spilling yellow upon my feet trembling, my hand reaches out and falls in defeat as the ostiary thunders: “your exile is incomplete.”
Nepenthe: Fictional medicine capable of making one forget suffering. (Greek) The summer breeze wafts the fragrance of gardenias you planted in the garden. I drink deep emboldened by the nepenthe to my soul
Mellisonant: sweet sounding A new year has begun in the Bengali calendar. You speak, your voice drips in my ear mellisonant notes from long ago Sweltering a half heard whisper, a blessing I hear no more.