Bird singing outside my window
My neck I crane, yet
I see neither thee nor thy shadow
My ears I strain, for soft
Is thy voice of joy and sorrow
My heart shifts shape, ’tis now
A bird I must eternally follow.
I still think about you
Still remember your heart
Special it was, like a house of virtue
And, like all things special, it did up and depart
But the longing, the softening, the striving , the yearning
Some start the downing, some start the burning
But you by-passed the normal poles, and noiselessly, soft
Noiselessly opened and bore me aloft.
Water water everywhere
Why is the world full of water?
The earth like a primeval bowl
Has been filled with water from a pitcher
Tilted down over a heavenly shoulder
High above the material sphere
Where love flows everywhere
Where the spirits never thirst
Where the urge to help alone comes first –
In 2013 I gave myself the luxury of publishing two books of poems on my birthday – today 6th April.
One is titled “WRITING IS THE HAPPINESS OF SORROW“, the idea for which came with the poem above which I wrote some time ago.
The other is “THE BEAUTIFUL ONES HAVE BEEN BORN” which is specific to my continent Africa.
In 2015 I reprinted them.