THE TREE THAT WAS

I had often seen him, standing firm by a turquoise lake,

Brown beauty wrapped in leaves of green-gold hue,

Boughs loved by canaries and kissed by purple flowers,

Nature's art, he would gaze at the water- mirror like narcissus,

On my way to the fields,i often saw a raven-haired girl sit in its lap and sing poetry,

He rustled to lyrical beauty, showering the child with petals,

An artist's muse, he stood looking at the gate of heaven,

While his feet struggled with the world beneath,

Those days of meeting him have passed by,

The lake breathes alone, flowers aren't purple anymore,

A silent wind writes an epitaph while the little girl sings,

He is listening as last embers of life ebb out,

I no longer see him standing by the turquoise lake,

Children, birds and me, we often think of him,

Symbol of nature's craft, a shadow of human heart,

The tree that was.

            THREAD OF TIME

Children of God, we sang songs of joy,

Paradise glittered in our eyes and we never touched the hellish portal,

The kites of our innocence were lost to the sky and we thought it to be wind's wicked ploy,

Music of our laughter filled the air as we lay in fields, untouched by the gloom of fate.

Time flew on white wings, we blossomed but our hearts withered away,

Evil shrouded us in a black aura and the angels chanted a prayer for the dead,

We saw our souls harden in the kiln of life,

Lost and fallen , we yearned to go back to the kites,

The winds have finally flown us to the winter,

Wrinkled waters of a wrinkled sea lap at our feet,

Wise old eyes flicker as they touch the horizon,

Pieces of life hang by silk threads, held in the hand of God.