Stones and Dust

Stones and dust faithfully rest
on the unassuming ground,
while coal-hued cloak,
dotted with minute flashes of light,
envelopes the stillness
caused by the shy sun.

In a manner scattered
over a large portion of the earth,
they stand, they lie, they roll,
they fly, they erupt, they wander.

Beneath the claimed sovereignty
of these flats, gateways, walls,
towers, bridges, and shelters,
are the uncharted mysteries plotted
like riddles of the great Sphinx.

I can't fathom the insides
of your will and freedom,
for you mind and render your own artistry.
I remain faithful to you.

Nocturnal Stroll

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The heart and mind of the being
are back for good;
and all that are held captive
in scattered hopes
and more the kinetic dreams
whistle in uniform sounds
that become of the sea,

The Plant

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There you are my muse
in the nook of my soul,
looking out for my god
dressed in my faith and hope.

How the silence of your mien
perpetuates through my afternoon,
is to my indignation not;
it is the fuel stirring
my affair with solitude. 

I delight in your fine expression
-- coy, playful, full of conviction
yet unpredictable.

You carry the eyes
watered with spring and summer,
and direct which to mine;
and for that, so grateful I am.

Despite all the nuisances
dangling and screaming around,
you remain calm and steadfast,
only to breathe with me,
to sleep in our own pulses
and be swayed by our simple happiness.

I catch the phrases let out from your foliage
-- young, smiling, and still wading
in the ruffled air and storms.

I love you.


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Well, who does not love a superior IQ?
It does wonders. 
We marvel at your pride.
But EQ can trample IQ down so easily.
It dares you to be true.
We toast at your being a human.
We realize.
We learn to fly.
We soar high as much as we kiss the ground.
IQ + EQ, ah, it is a long shot, sometimes.
Well, there is a mound of dust.
To sweep or to vacuum?
That is the second question.
Asthma, please go away.