He had a poet's heart
When he melted with pain at the sight of a wounded bird
Like an ice cube melting in summer's heat
The helpless eyes of grieving bird's mate
Loved to write as far back as memory goes
Without any thought for a verse to compose
Poetic expressions of innate creativity
Sometime I wish I had a piano
In a long list of wishes may be another addition
Or if my pen was a piano key
On lazy afternoons of summer
Night is stygian sans of stars
Dark mood shares kinship
With black sky of new moon
Moon's jubilant child I am shedding
Endowed with knowledge we
Acquire the power of a counselor.
Cultivating equanimity we
A friend wrote a Chinese proverb,
Said 'she strongly believes in it.'
"An invisible thread connects those
When searching for solutions,
Intellect can be as great an obstacle
As our emotional being,
If it prefers to construct its own truth
Beautiful is the moon, just before
The night of full moon. Specially if
One can watch it late at night or
Early morning in the western sky.
Words are like flowers.
Each one gives its own fragrance,
And imparts its own beauty.