Crystal Ball

I looked in the crystal ball.
I saw my birth, rise, fall,
and death. I saw my life
with its darkness and light.
I saw roots. I saw my family
tree growing tall and strong.
I saw me as a child, exploring
unknowns, with an innocence
only children know and show.
I saw my future. I saw better
days. From an ariel view,
I saw the choices I made
and trees throwing shade.
I saw everyday as a game.
I was the star player showing
no fear: grinning ear to ear.
In the crystal ball, I saw
me at the top of a mountain.
I saw that I found a fountain
of youth. It’s the damn truth.
I saw it all in my crystal ball.
I know what I saw, and I saw
what I know. I saw my life
unfold. I saw me grow old.
In the crystal ball, I saw me
write deep into the night.

No Vacancy

As the day moves, I seem to lose
track of time. I seem to forget
where my thoughts went. Still,
I feel fulfilled even when milk
is spilled. Thoughts, memories,
and feelings take refuge inside
my wide eyes. All I have seen,
heard, and felt does not melt.
What remains stays in frame.
All that I am is made up of old
times and slant rhymes. Still,
there is no room to goof off.
Now, as I move on, there is
no love lost – no cross to bear.
No fear: no vacancy: no way
to tell when all will be well.
Life is full of ups and downs
and broken crowns. It’s time
for stars to align. Believe it
to be true; it starts with you.

A Poet’s Dream

A Poet’s dream is to be heard
and not seen. A Poet’s dream
is to create, to wait, and to
discover one’s own fate.
A Poet’s dream manifests itself
in words, sounds, and mounds
of half-written ideas found
under the surface: underground.
A Poet dreams a dream brighter
than the sunlight and better than
a good night under the stars’
inviting sight. A Poet’s dream
is to change the world –
to rearrange things to release
one’s hidden pain. Just like
ghosts, Poets do not show them-
selves, but they do know them-
selves. A Poet’s dream
is to live a life that can manifest
itself before and during the night.