Scent of Wet

Scent of wet

greenery and camomile

sting lush at night.

Tropical intoxication

brought to life by rain passed

and forgotten

The Travellers

The Travellers

 

Each one of us

is a traveller

and often a wastrel,

with a soul like

a feather in the wind.

Winds blow it

mercilessly hard and cold

in furious storms without meaning

into thankless death.

Lead our souls like a feather in the wind

like a sheep and like a naïve lamb

led by a loving hand .

Its such a long way to go,

over the waters .

Thalassa, thalassa,

the wind blows ,

and we travel far

from the gentle start

in the morning.

We all have a choice to make

as we go .

“You have come down

now visible ,

Infinite and Eternal one

to conceal yourself

as the manifest force of nature

and to allow evil to have free reign

and to exist in this world ,

only to raise us high

and to test us to reveal ,

through your blowing

and changing winds ,

the traits of leadership

that you have given us,

and placed quietly within.

In your eternal will,

you wait patiently

to spring out

and fulfill . “ *                                      *Kabbalistic Prayer

From “Dreams for a Saturday Morning” by PWChaltas

I Will Cleave to the One I love

I Will Cleave to the One I love

I will cleave
to the One I love
In the beauty that comes
from inside,
and to and from above ,
to the  beauty of nature
without.
There’s  no lasting beauty in abandon ,
no true joy in a One night stand .
It’s empty with a promise
of panacea .
There is only darkness
hiding there
and a sliding
of the wandering
errant hand .