My window was open
And my eyes wouldn’t close
All night I’d been hopin’
That I would dose
But the light from the moon
Shone full into my room
And burned in my body
Like a fiery wound.
As I lay dying,
My heart deeply sighing
Like the wind in the willows beyond,
A desolate howling
Came from without
And filled me with terror unknown.
Upon my bed cowering
I began to shout
But it tore into my body
And brought forth my soul
Leaving me empty
And cold.
Upon my bed shivering
My spirit quivering
I hugged my hollow form.
I felt more forlorn
Than a child alone
Forever in hell
For in God’s home
I once did dwell
And the mem’ry of’t was still so new
I had the smell of His flowers in my hair
Upon my lips the kiss of His dew.
In the dark I waited
And the sun never rose again.
Once I looked over my windowsill
And saw a forsaken plain.
Dark shadows there stood writhing
And wailing in the endless night.
I closed my ears and closed my eyes
But the sounds that I was hearing
Were not from somewhere outside
They came from deep within
Where the fire resides.
I heard the crackling furnace
The blaze consuming my flesh,
As the light of inspiration, in its quest,
Lit upon the brittle shell
Of the hollow man in hell
And blackened it like paper
That shattered in the wind
And slowly flew away
On ashen wings.
Upon the bed lay burning
A single spark of fire
That once had been the will
Of a man who did expire.
From its light a feather grew
And soon a flaming wing
Until at last the phoenix flew
Into a sky now brightening.
What it was that woke my soul
Never will I know
But this I have to say:
That though I may not yet be whole
Ever will I grow.
I hide within a culture where black people
kill their brother everyday
no other culture on this earth
slaughter humans in this way..
Listen to what I say!…
I hide within a culture where white rulers estimate
the body count…the after effects..
of the importation and proliferation
of drugs and alcohol
of guns and disease…and biased media..
that they control…
the ‘when and where and who …will fall’
These white men have no soul…
world domination is their goal
White rulers that get rich from war..
old racist men that know it all..
I hide within that culture …
The trip began long before time
a journey of your soul and mine.
But our bodies and earthy minds,
yesterday, were unaware,
while fraught with strife and despair.
Our turn, a time when our souls
were lost to each other’s care.
But the time, though oft seemed not,
was for the earthy mind to grow;
that mind out of touch with the spirit
as we moved to and fro.
Sudden it was not,
though it may have seemed so,
when finally our souls, freed of darkness,
once again caressed a knowing touch
of such indescribably softness.
And, so now, a new journey begins;
a journey shrouded in God’s gentle
veil of mystery.
Memories now of no consequence
to be left in mind’s history:
to serve as lessons well learned,
rewards hard earned.
So join my spirit now
for the journey of a lifetime,
Your soul and mine.
Come walk with me, as only our
souls can, hand in hand.
Dance with me, our souls merged,
to the angels’ sweet band.
Soar with my soul
among the stars
As we travel wide and far.
There we will learn, unconditional
friends and lovers,
Safe in the spirit… of God’s turn.
Destination… unknown.
Do pal kay haseen khwab,
Do dil kay fasanay,
Yaad aatay hain ab bhi,
Woh guzray zamanay.
Saanson ki mehak unki,
Mohabbat say kahi har baat,
Mashook badi zalim thee,
Badi qaatil hai unki yaad.
Bhoolay bichaday woh waaday,
Kachay dhaagon si woh kasmein,
Do pal kay thay saaray,
Na Hue kabhi woh apnay,
Yaad aatay hain ab bhi,
Woh guzray zamanay,
Do pal kay haseen khwab,
Do dil kay fasanay.
Really I can feel that blow,
Really that narrow street,
Where played the childhood,
With the dust,in that soil.
With small barefoot in that clouds.
Really she awakens,
Always in the dawn,
With her nip fingers,
For the work of hard,
In the thunder storm,
In a heavy rain,
In the shivering cold and,
In the heat of days.
Really can’t forget that town,
Oh no! not at all,
That tamarind tree,
That banyan branches,
That fishes of pond,
That chirping of birds,
That story of Mother,
In the moon of night,
That festival were happiness,
Really that feeling was bright,
Oh yes! That was reality of my life.
