All Too Human

“Despair is the price one pays for self-awareness. Look deeply into life, and you’ll always find despair.” ― Irvin D. Yalom

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Darkness and light,
death and life,
despair and hope,
sharing the same ground
we all walk,
breathing the same air
without which all is dead.
Can the soul survive?
The pale stars,
the waning moon,
the sweltering sun
burning all in its sight.
Can the trees protect us
from our own demise?
Are we human to one another
or are we all too human
to truly love?
To cherish
before we perish
one blade of grass at a time…
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Midnight Glow

“In every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks.” – John Muir

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I came to the end of the valley,
where the last tree stands
lonesome, it seems,
but the mountain stream
playfully runs by it as if
they were best of friends.
I sit down for a moment
resting my back against the mossy trunk,
my bare feet in the stream
as I melt into the surrounding;
with the view of pure splendor
and every drop of mist,
with every touch of a butterfly’s wing
that brushes against my skin.
Peaceful, I let it all flow
as the daylight dances into
the midnight glow.
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Lavender Field

“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”
― Marcus Aurelius

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The sun, never shy to shine
even when the clouds take over the skies.
The rays of light always there
for us to touch and make them ours.
Don’t be shy, reach out
for your very own spark of light.
Don’t worry you’ll miss the perfect one,
kiss your fear with warmth
and tuck it deep under your pillow.
Step outside of your home
to take a short stroll.
Let the trees guide your footsteps,
let your journey begin –
not tomorrow but today.
Let the sun sing inside your heart,
awaken your inner luminescence,
take a sip of the morning mist and
smile like a lavender field.
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Daily Greetings

“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different…” – C.S. Lewis

Screen shot 2017-06-02 at 9.57.09 AMPhoto credit: Avi Drori at Yosemite Conservancy

Before I say good-bye
I must say hello –
my daily greetings
to the meadow of yellow
with bees and their busy working,
to the soft soil
I comfortably walk on.
To the breeze brushing through
the dancing trees,
to the spring rain washing off
all that is hurting.
To the sun reaching
for my face to turn upward
and kiss the sweet air.
Some days are better
sometimes we have nothing left
but pain in our heart
and one step to make at a time.
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The Aroma Of Jasmine And Oranges

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths, or the turning inwards in prayer for five short minutes.” ― Etty Hillesum

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Lazy Sunday, fuzzy day;
the sun trying persistently
to peek through the haze,
the conspicuous hills in the near distance –
the loyal watcher, and the breeze
making the trees dance
in the rhythm of a spring afternoon.
My feet sun-kissed
in flip-flops nested,
the tan skin with hair-thin lines, I notice,
shamelessly reflect age and life.
I can’t help but love
the roadmap of my travels,
tumbles and hikes,
the scars, bruises, and a broken toe,
the sunset strolls in the sand,
the many hours on a tennis court.
Today, a hazy day,
when one tends to forget about pain,
like an anchored vessel rocking in a calm sea,
the mind saunters in the garden of memories
with the aroma of jasmine and
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I Would

“For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.” ― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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If I could fly into space
to find you a necklace made of stars, I would.
If I could turn into the sun
to spill warmth into your heart, I would.
If I could become the moon
to guide you into your dreams, I would.
If I could be the ocean
to absorb your tears, I would.
If I could become your mirror
I would smile into your eyes
and tell you how beautiful you are.
Every morning, every day, every night.


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Left Behind In Ashes

“I’m not crying because of you; you’re not worth it. I’m crying because my delusion of who you were was shattered by the truth of who you are.” – Steve Maraboli

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Nothing matters in the end…
Years of memories, erased
without a thought.
Years of love, gone!
Like a house after a lightning bolt,
the spark of a sudden death,
Brick by brick, frame by frame,
not even a mirror on the wall…
The promise of a home
up in the smoke
and down to the ground,
left behind in ashes…
Like a half smoked cigarette
slowly burning, without apology,
setting its surrounding aflame.
When love betrays
only the death of heart
lingers in the air.
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Morning Harmony

“There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There is no fragrance in April breezes till breathed with joy as they wander by.” – William C. Bryant


The morning song
Nature’s tongue…
only birds’ chirping
fills the silence and
iridescent glow of
peace and harmony.
The morning dew
gleefully hugging
the garden of golden hue,
winking at the sun
before melting
into the petals of blooms.
I look up to the stars –
Thank you for sleeping
and letting my soul shine
if only for a little while,
when all in solitude
is communing
in perfect sincerity
in beauty dissolved,
the morning song…
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Picture Perfect View

“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” – Buddha


Everything moves gracefully today
like a silk scarf in the wind
flowing away.
The puffy clouds in the pristine sky,
the cars on the distant highway,
the couple strolling in the nearby park
like lovers holding hands,
the leaves on the branches of young trees,
even the blades of grass
are dancing in the rhythm of life,
as I sit on top of the hill
in silence meditating
on the fragrance of the air I breathe.
How fortunate I am to have this
picture perfect view to see
from above without looking down.
I accept the good won’t last and
the bad too shall pass.
I only have Now and everything
it brings to my sight, feeding my heart.
Only now am I alive.
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The Earth And Seven Seas

“When the heart is supple, it can be “broken open” into a greater capacity to hold our own and the world’s pain: it happens every day. When we hold our suffering in a way that opens us to greater compassion, heartbreak becomes a source of healing, deepening our empathy for others who suffer and extending our ability to reach out to them.” ― Parker J. Palmer

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What makes poetry compelling, I often ponder.
Is it young love shining through the trails of paradise
without limits floating in their sheer veils of delight?
What if an arctic circle without life becomes the plot?
Is it the claws of painful life sharp as a razor
cutting through a forest of broken hearts?
Left behind bleeding helplessly like orphans
without the strength to climb the shores of a safe escape.
Nobody is looking back, nobody will know if they drowned.
But what if they’re still alive, barely breathing,
crawling without a voice, desperately reaching for our souls,
evoking emotions we never felt before, tasting blood in our throats.
Would we stop? Would we turn to help?
It might be too much for some to offer their hand;
nobody wants to have a bitter stain on their dress or tie,
nobody wants to be derailed from their luxurious life.
Perhaps we are all too overwhelmed by tragedy and loss,
by hearing about rape and murder of a child,
numb we must write about the subtle beauty of a dolphin’s play
to be able to breathe and survive the toxic rain.
Perhaps we are unable to look into another’s face
for a fear to see dark crossroads of hopelessness
reminding us of our own dreamless road.
Perhaps we ourselves became paralyzed by our sorrow and misery,
when we can’t help but hear the river weep its haunting song,
when we slowly drown with our spirit muted, unable to speak
waiting for the wind to play our broken instruments in the window,
the shadow of our own.
So, perhaps an occasional escape of the mind is a treasure to behold.
Where not all is yet lost, where there’s always hope – we must believe.
Where the ocean, the stars, sand between toes, and meadows meet.
Where lovers dance their tango in the royal hall of endless dream
and a smile like a butterfly gently tickles our soul.
Perhaps it’s not only heaven or hell but the earthly path we journey
and the seven seas we swim where we dive into the depths to grow,
where we reach for one another’s fingers and won’t let go.
But perhaps, I am completely wrong about it all.
I wrote this poem last year during the Syrian refugee crisis throughout Europe. But it’s apparent, today’s times bring similar sadness, fear, and sense of hopelessness. The more fortunate are bombarded by tragic images, the less fortunate must live them, and the ones in power seem to be playing with the fragility of life. I’m not a politically much-versed person, but this is not about politics. This is about humanity and the decency of the human heart. May we all find peace someday.
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