A little boy once

Little boy of no age
cries in the white light,
buries his face in the heart,
and reads her feiry tale
Ageless kisses of hope
melt in the puddle of raindrops,
and mirror they bring to her,
as she reads her grey lines
little boy colours them
in pastels and in dreams
White and black and grey,
look yellow blue and silver
and golden lips kiss the boy,
They hold hands,
and wet their feet in the puddle,
Tell me mirror
fairy tale is it?
or tales of a dream....

Java city

Saved in an orange clay bowl
some ash and cigarette butts
embrace a night,

Under the glossy cover of a comic book
walk the eyes of a child,

Sipping some iced mint tea
she reads their silence,

Not one could see inside,
the city where coffee brews
Not one was heard mumuring
the whispers of destiny,

Who knows? How many times?
I walked past that land
unable to see inside
and a glance waiting,
Who knows? How many times?
The ash flew,
The nights smiled,
The eyes found a rescue,
and silence played on destiny
till today......

Traveller

Frozen in the fuming hearts
molten in the summits by sunshine
niether her face nor her shame leaves her
only a rag flutters in the wind
baring her skin to the storms of time

In her hands she holds blisters since ages
niether the morning nor the night leaves her
only her broken staff measures path
touching her feet every time she falls

Casteaway skin she touches when she bathes
niether stains nor satin leave her soul
only some silver strands colour her hair
and bring time to a stand still
leaving only memories of an empty yesterday....