Salty Aftertaste

Twenty days later
I sing with loss.
A quick toss
to the wind
and like the salt
of my many tears
held inside,
I ride the wave
of the breeze
and hope for
a landing
in the promised land.
By whom
I cannot define,
nor resign to
believe.
I know the swine
may reap this
burried treasure.
A pleasure
so hidden,
even the wind
has no clarity.
Still I travel.
I learn of love
from centures
and ventures
unlike my own.
And in my zone
I weep for you.
Heat and dew
entrench me.
A wretch.
I catch a glimpse
of paradise
and like Moses,
I am led away
with intended
Shame.

Nameless.

I believe that
heaven
must not house
leaders.
Only sheep
find solice
from their
eternal suffering
there.

The sheperds
and the ravens
take flight,
beyond the sight
of desert shores.
The extraordinary
greets us with
open arms.
Piercings with charms,
rainbows, farms and
indiginous masses
swim the streets
of Dharamsala.
The celebration
ongoing.
A still
knowing
settles us all.
We are awake.

2/20/10 me