the charting.

The point you started from -

somewhere between night-time

and the blue hour -


a leap into the clay pearl

moist from the ocean zones

and the many departures


- as many as stars

to inhabit the cosmic hands

that opened to release you.


Your trajectory is charted

on this map by your silent sway

and from where I stand


It feels like butterflies

circle my core along the way.

But it is you, from the inside


of the days

far ahead in the calendar,

sending me post-it notes


that pulsate with the promise

of your arrival -

I open this door and wait.

the poetry of others: Touched by An Angel by Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.



arrive with the wave

that’s never let you down.


counting the days

no longer adds up. so

surround your surrender


with seeking.


rise with the wave,

arrive where you are,

be all there is in your soul


for you to become -

in there, somewhere,

it already is.


I found out today

as the ice cream van



that life has a way

of bringing you to it,

rising you to the surface


when you can no longer

go on without

a deeper, grateful breath.



They overlap

across the land:

Notions of progress, wetlands

and inner city trains.


Halt to the march!

Parading us, the chirping

in celebration by the envoys

of the season.


On water, the boats.

Skips filled behind a gate.

Butterflies that circle me dizzy

along the boardwalk.


With every step taken,

we celebrate the day

and the many layers

that fearlessly coincide -


around us, the world

and above us, the sky.

my wishes.

I wish no part of your body is left untouched.

I wish no string in your heart remains unplayed.

I wish no day will go by that you won’t feel loved.

I wish no heartbeat of yours go wasted on fear.

I wish the universe has received my ‘thank-you’ card for having met you.

I wish for nothing more that what we have for reality is so much better than dreaming.


- I was once stuck in the past, and you have given me a present: the future.


An Other.

I watch you on the screen -

your silhouette, defined and fluid.

My heart beats

faster. Your heart, beats.


My mind races, your brain

clothed in translucent skin.

The freeways of my heart

mapped out into another being -


never seen a growth so benign.


One of your arms, waves.

Your legs, outstretched.

I am tearful and dumbfounded -

and you are just beginning.


I stand, corrected.

The heart, healed

and not dangling from

a Christian spear.


Carnival is not something

I wish to buy from the ads on TV -

with a handful of confetti, I await

for the parade.


Words are not echoed in silent corridors,

drowning in a page of a notebook.

She, who did not like school

and skip classes to read Henry Miller.


The Future is another Future laid

across the path – a tablecloth

that awaits for the dessert when the feast

has been gladly consumed.


She has learnt many things

and from these she has learnt

that Life is a duty, and that Joy

is a mission.


Love is the blessing, the hand

gloved in light that touches

the crown of your head

as the heart finally heals.


Mother, I say

and the mirror looks back at me

amazed at the words those lips

have contoured.


(Version II of the poem.)


Solemn, silent – and definite,

as if taken for a snapshot.


I wait in the wings

and I know of your dance

I don’t see it

but I know of it.


Solemn and silent

is the certainty I carry.


You, on the other hand,

bursts out of infinity

with a purpose and

baring fingertips.


I wait in the wings and I know

of your dance -

I cannot see you just yet

but I know of the fireworks


That burst out of infinity

into the confines of a life to be lived -

I carry it gladly.