Survivor

Buried under the rubble

In nature's worst fury unleashed

Rocks and metal, ash and dust,

Nothing from death to shield.

She lets out a cry, a feeble call,

Nothing except darkness around,

Lungs filled with dust, yet chords so sharp,

Death and destruction surrounds.

Barely is she a hundred days old,

But a hundred hours she's breathed,

Covered in debris, blood and pain,

In a thin baby wrap she's sheathed.

Big brown eyes, the slightest smile,

Her hands raised out to the world,

Despite the looming gloom outside,

'Fighting' say her fingers curled.

Strong hands save her tiny frame,

Rescue from where she was trapped. 

A survivor she is, she's beaten all odds,

Sans the ability to think or act.

Sweet child, where did you find?

That spirit to keep ticking still,

When time weighed upon your little bones,

How did your soul bear the chill?

Would I have that courage when,

I'm fighting against all odds,

At the dust and debris trapping me,

In a world that hurts, defrauds?

Or would I rather give up the fight,

And bid the world adieu?

Without the faith in those strong hands,

Which are waiting to reach me and rescue.

Searching for you.

Sitting on the seashore,

I looked at the fiery orange orb,

As it took it's plunge into the deep depths,

Of the ocean-

All, but gone.

And unknowingly my mind,

Dives into the deep recess of my heart,

Searching for you.

I grab a fistful of sand,

And hold it out

Watching it escape my fingers,

Just like your silky mane.

I can feel those lustrous tresses,

Assault my senses as I,

Try to entwine them between my fingers.

But just like the sand, 

that slips through,

Your silken locks are gone.

A little girl selling flowers,

Beckons me to buy some,

And I see your favorite white flower,

That so made you smile.

The mild fragrance of the fresh bloom, 

Invades my heart, driving it wild,

An epithet I'd since conferred on you,

Mild and yet so wild.

Then there's darkness, 

As I sit alone and ponder, 

Will the sun set on my feelings? 

Will the fragrance wither away? 

Will my desires fly away,

Like those sea gulls? 

Or will they find a new dawn, 

When the florets will bloom again,

And the orb will majestically rise,

Making me whole again.

Chaos

Black and White

Time...

You can never know when,

You've had the last conversation,

With people you love...

When those final words,

Are all you will have,

To cherish and behold,

For the rest of your lives.

Words that replay on loop,

Every time you think of them,

Making you realize, yet again, 

That this fleeting time,

Is all, but slipping away,

Like grains of sand,

From the palm of your hand.