Hymn For My Ears
Their magnet points, now
a few thousand years later,
do not bend when you call my name.
They seemed spectral, figmental,
until hearing narrowed.
Now I know they exist
although you’re not so sure.
Past sends a message through a ham radio.
Present hears white butterflies
covering a fierce shrub.
I pray for you two.
My temples throb in the noise of signs.
In the temporary silence
the ceiling fan reigns.
The dog wants his owner back.
Now it rules the quiescence.
Breeze lifts the curtain,
pulls the pane. Where did hush go?
The glow of the fireflies, turn of a page,
charts by the iron bed, pills on the plate,
he seeks. He finds, loses again,
rings the bell and I
can hear him, give him
everything except what he lost.
For an instant the parrot
swung holding the darkest vine.
Some days I can point the space
I frame it between the thumb and the index
and the other thumb and the other index,
“I love you.”
“Yes”, you say, “people shall always leave.”
Perchance, the bird is never one bird.
A Forest of Light and Gloom
Dark grows tall, sprawls,
leaves a mushy heap of rot
around their ankles.
You cannot see darkness.
What shall I do with you,
So that you see black,
I plant more trees.
More aspens, dogwoods
for the light too.
One day you
will come to this forest,
if not as a soul,
if in a flesh of an owl
flying above my head,
and I shall wait for your hoot.
Edited the online magazine ‘Words Surfacing’.
Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio), A Place For Your Ghost Animals (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs), Understanding The Neighborhood (BRP, Australia), Scratches Within (Barbara Maat, Florida), Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems (BRP, Australia) and Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems (Hawakal Publishers, India) and now Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel (Alien Buddha Press)
Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/