Desert winds whirl on

Desert winds whirl on
26 October 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


Sullen skies
watch my every move
Deceit lies
in their sighs
There is nothing I will prove
I ignore their cries

Yesterday
I stored my future
under sands
Foreign lands
remembering osmosis
seep soul through crisis

The Negev
moved on silently
its body
wild man’s tool
its breath all still promises
unwinding through hiss

My seeds grown
diligently sown
through mind cast
made to last
A thousand years break under
the forced surrender

Cast me ten
Elements are five
Replicate
twice mission
The tribes that stand will survive
wayward attention

In truth lay
throne to sit upon
Mirrors don
gold inlay
They kill themselves as they slay
Desert winds whirl on

Reading of the poem:
Desert Meditations Gnawa Bass Meets Blues Guitar

Sad sighs in between

Sad sighs in between

October 1, 2018

sad sighs lauramarietv com
Courtesy lauramarietv.com

 

From your bosom’s share

You gave me a piece of sun

Dazzling in bright frame

 

In free gift of self

Willingly you gave me light

Through dark winter night

 

Nights and days relayed

Sensations everlasting

Heart at the center

 

Head preoccupied

Thoughts roaming free now unwind

Windmills in the mind

 

From my toil and care

I gave you a piece of moon

Reflected in eyes

 

In poet’s retort

Unknowingly I gave spleen

Sad sighs in between

 

Reading of the poem: 

Anamorphic – Lights & Motion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldo4jsHmC4w

Shores undivided

Shores undivided

23 September 2018

shores deviantart com the_moon_goddess__edited__by_dferous-d5ek0y5
Courtesy deviantart.com

 

Square linings in thoughts

Scent of a heart set on fire

Perfume felt my pulse

 

In between woodlands

A gate swings North west and creaks

South a remembrance

 

Wind a rhythmic friend

Over treetops lone whistle

Beings in the wild

 

A silence heaves hard

My bosom a place of peace

In prayer penance

 

Twenty three sparrows

Memories of my journey

Carry them in tale

 

Wisdom a handful

Merging with the feminine

Shores undivided

 

Reading of the poem: 

Riverside – Agnes Obel

 

Shedding leaves

Shedding leaves

25-26 August 2018

 

She walked through the swarming streets heading towards the beachfront. She smiled at the woman who crossed her path and touched her outstretched hands that were offering her a garland of jasmine woven with small roses. She took the garland and put it around her neck as her hair was too short to weave it in there. She paid the woman, smiled and moved on as the woman waved at her smilingly.

 

The sun was high in the sky but the sea remained grey as usual. She had wondered when she had first arrived at the seaside why the sea was always grey but had got used to it. It seemed like it had to blend with the darker colour of the rocks on the seaside. She thought back to the beautiful sparkling beaches in North Africa and wondered whether it was the pollution here that made the sea turn grey close to the coast.

 

She sat on a rock overlooking the beach and stared at the sea. The waves were making a gentle lulling sound interrupted from time to time by the shrieks of children jumping into the water. It was a joyous sight but somehow she could not help her heart feeling heavy. She could not get over the feeling that something had completely stirred out of control in her destiny, changing her future, and that it was not by chance. Barely a year and a half had gone by but it seemed like it was light years away.

 

Back home to keep the memories of those moments of the future she had glimpsed she had resorted to collecting falling leaves in which she mentally inscribed glimpses of that future. Over time, the future she had seen seemed to be slowly fading into oblivion and she would then take out the leaves to remember. Each leaf reminded her vividly of a place in time where she had been in thought and where she had lived an incredible adventure filled with love and happiness.

 

Her right hand felt for the small basket that was tucked inside her handbag. It was still there and she sighed a sigh of relief. She wondered how it could be so small and hold so much at the same time. She got up from the rock and resumed her walk but towards the canal this time. It was one of the rare places in the city where stagnant water was not necessarily a synonym of stench and rot. At some points it even looked beautiful with profuse vegetation and a small bridge-like construction.

 

The water was a sombre green. She walked to the bridge, looked over the edge of it and slowly emptied the small basket. The leaves fell into the water and swirled away with the current caused by the wind. She watched until they were out of sight and felt as though her heart were leaving with those swirling leaves. Yet she knew that she could not hold on to the leaves as a totem anymore. They had to disappear for what they represented to reappear.

 

Those moments of the lost future she had lived had to be reintegrated within her. They belonged to her and had to be a part of her again, not relegated to the role of externalised memories. Her heart warmed slowly with the returning memories that filled her being with love. It was as if the release of the leaves had opened a dam within her. The images cascaded in her mind like a whirlpool of sunny water as they filled her neurons. Tears of joy streamed down her face and wiping them she lifted her head and smiled up at the skies. It did not matter anymore that it had been steered away for it existed out there. It was forever hers.

 

Shedding leaves.jpg
Courtesy pinterest.com

Winter Aid – The Wisp Sings

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zIBvJXgsKY

Dust

Dust

22 May 2018

Storm woman Andy Bate

 

The night exhaled the scent of jasmine into her nostrils. She opened her eyes and peered into the darkness. She could hardly make out the outline of the jasmine tree’s branches. The pot with the tree had been removed by a friend who had taken the jasmine tree but the branches clung to the little hedge and still flowered. It was a curious thing to ponder on really. How those flowers could still bloom and the leaves still stay green while the tree had been snipped away from them was another of the mysteries of life. She went back inside her room where the darkness was thicker and lay her head on the pillow. She would check tomorrow if the leaves had begun to wither finally and she would then disentangle them from the hedge and cast them away.

The next morning was a gloomy grey morning as the dust from an oncoming sandstorm piled into the skies. She went to check the hedge and surely enough after their display of frantic desire to survive the branches were going limp and some leaves had turned yellow. The flowers too seemed withered and forlorn. She wondered if she should take them off right now or wait for all the leaves to become yellow before she would throw them in the bin. Looking at those desperate branches made her think of the eventuality of what consciousness went through when the body came to pass. Did all people’s consciousness linger desperately for a while without a body trying to find a way back into this life or unlike the flowers did they just stop blooming and join the collective consciousness the minute the body’s time ended ?

The dust in the air thickened and she could feel her throat going hoarse as the particles invaded her nostrils and found their way into her lungs. She sneezed as the wind picked up moving more dust her way. The branches heaved on the hedge and some of the yellow leaves flew with the wind before it settled bringing them to the ground. She reached out into the hedge and started easing the branches off it. As she piled the leaves into a heap, the wind picked up again and the branches scattered all across the pathway. The sky grew darker as more sand flew with the wind walling off the sun’s rays. She continued easing off the branches and finally gathering them together she cast them into the bin outside the gate. As she entered the house she could still smell the wane scent of jasmine mingled with the unmistakable sandy smell of the dust in the wind.

Dust in the wind – Melanie Safka

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjTZqMZ5FJ0

Hush

Hush

15 May 2018

Hush George Redhawk

 

Hush she said and the woods were silent. The pitter-patter of raindrops a deafening sound covering her waning heartbeat. Hush she said and the rain softly subsided, an occasional drop on a leaf resounding like a thud in her head. Hush she said and the leaves ceased caressing the wind, their whispers fading into the rising dusk. Hush she said and the blood in her veins slowed tenfold until she could hear the drip like a background music to the occasional flap of wings of a cawing crow shaking off the rain. Hush she said and the darkness engulfed her with its palpable silence like a long forgotten and well-worn cloak. Hush she said her eyes finally closing, her soul softly embracing the dark night.

 

Reading of the short story: 

Wilderness – Adam Hurst

 

 

Heart shines in the mind

Heart shines in the mind

3 July 2017

land beginnings louis dryer on louisdryer com409-GODESS-FOR-WEB
Courtesy Louis Dryer on louisdryer com

 

We rewind

Efforts undermined

Meek is hiss

Peace in bliss

The love the power outshined

Heart and mind entwined

 

Strange to kiss

Willow tree to miss

Tall to stand

All withstand

Shadows fading in the mist

Glistening rain in fist

 

Love to find

In uncanny kind

Gust of wind

To rescind

Beacon of light for the blind

Heart shines in the mind

 

Reading of the poem: 

Night of the Northern lights – Jolanta Gałka

 

Flying South

Flying South

7 March 2017

Flyingsouth pinterest com 2
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Feeding herd

Revolves around me

Claws of Hawk

On the fish

The lamb is opening dish

In supper of wolves

 

Spilling yoke

The hen rescued egg

Wisps of smoke

Ribs that poke

Talismans that we invoke

Through Truths that we spoke

 

The chatter

Subsides with the winds

Flying South

Closing mouth

Face racing against the clouds

I follow the birds

 

Reading of the poem: 

flyingsouth deviantart com spirit_healer_rising_by_dead_within-d37amcy
Courtesy d37amcy on deviantart.com

Vuelvo al Sur – Caetano Veloso

 

The Cleopatra Tales 1: Divine Union – Hieros Gamos

The Cleopatra Tales 1: Divine Union – Hieros Gamos

drowning wifflegif com

There is a garden

There is a garden

19 August 2016

game george redhawk architecturenart com 3.gif

 

Hush listen

There is a garden

It speaks soft

Of springtime

Of sources below the sands

That nourish the lands

 

Flutter on

There is a garden

It sparkles

With dewdrops

As they glisten on Flora

Bosom plethora

 

Now enter

There is a garden

It rustles

With the leaves

As they fall memory heaves

In the blowing wind

 

Lick your lips

There is a garden

It expands

It dilates

Lush with golden apple trees

That melt into mouth

 

Now repose

There is a garden

It circles

Etheric

In my mind lost eclectic

Millenary fate

 

Reading of the poem: 

come tumblr com

 

Quotes of Love and Life – Rumi

 

I am only the House of your Beloved – Rumi

Desire – Rumi