Alchemy

 

These souls so full they re-align.
Separated by thoughts and time.
Which hold a love that extends to all.
Who reign above, and for those who fall.
And do not let the world go dark.
But ignite the hope within each spark.
This alchemy that turns hate to kind.
 Our lives, our world, all intertwined.

 

Failures washed over his workbench, dripping down his life. His quest to find the secret of changing lead into gold had consumed and shaken his soul. Yet he had merely strayed from the path he was meant to travel, clouded by the misty haze of obsession. When a little book comes into his life, it realigns his fate and lets the alchemy truly begin.

‘Alchemy’ is a story about a man’s evolution at the end of his life and how his preciousness is valued, not in the gold he makes; but the changes that he conjures. Strewn around poems that lead from dreams to magic, and prayers to happiness; the story navigates from despair to adjustment in surreal and magical landscapes.

Poetry and storytelling collide in this hybrid tale that mixes spirituality with personal well-being.

Alchemy is out now in e-book and paperback.

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Feathers & down

This little prayer, whispered through tears.
Finds the wings of doves to reach the sky.
But the crows get there first.
Tearing it to pieces.
Ripping it to grief.
So the tears remain.
Staining a soul which flutters.
Like a fragile cry caught in a circumstance.
Splattering over a bleeding heart.
Soaking the feathers and down.

Church

How saintly is this soil?
That I see reaching off to the horizon.
That blue sky above must be nothing but god.
A shared beauty. That cobalt collection of atmosphere and faith.
The yoke of this galaxy rises in the distance.
What precious gold this is.
Which direction is Mecca?
The wind rushes through these bones, the breath of god.
Each twitch of a nerve ending crumbles in a crucifixion.
Causing me to speak.
For my eyes to blink and this vermilion wine inside to flow.
The church was built for us. Hewn from the mountains in the sky.
Yet I rarely pray here, as much as I should.
Thankfulness is a hymn I should sing more often.
Yet this house of god stands firm each day.
Waking to the walls and the salty tears of rain that fall inside sometimes.
When the world grows dark, when the candles go out.
Yet its foundations are stronger than Jerusalem.
I fall and touch this ground and feel at home.
Spun around and whispered to by many devils.
But they cannot ever touch me here.
In my church.
On this earth.

Tenderness

Don’t let them touch you there.
Not in that fashion.
You are not a tree stuck in their path.
Or a lump of coal by the fire.
To warm them on chilly nights in their frozen situations.
Devoid of obligations.
They must show us some tenderness.
A little honey with the bitter.
They should not lay their fingers over.
The precious gold, the spotless soul.
Who knows when they washed those hands last in holy water.
Who knows where those thumbs have been.
You are not pulp of a fiction with crumbled pages.
But a silky bible with a sacred taste.
Smelling as divine as Jesus’s spine.
All words of resurrecting what’s dead.
If they tried a little tenderness.
These doors would open.
To a chamber splashed a gaudy red.
And we would pray together, incomplete forever.
Cherishing what we found.

Everything (सर्वेषां स्वस्तिर्भवतु ।)

When the world wind weeps around you.
May the universe dry your eyes.
And happiness make you smile once more.
Sarvesham Svastir Bhavatu.
I cannot keep you safe from the conflict.
Or the wars within you.
But I offer you peace, from that of which I’ve known.
Sarveśām Shāntir Bhavatu.
You are taken from the mountain,.
You come in pieces.
And I too. But together we are more than less.
Sarveśām Pūrnam Bhavatu.
And if you fall, I will not catch you.
I will watch as you rise again.
And applaud your strength, with an outstretched heart.
Sarveśām Maṇgalam Bhavatu.

ADIEU

Shuffling off this mortal coil.
After years of strife and toil.
Turns my sight towards the sky.
And spit in Satan’s salty eye.
For though I’m old and known to break.
With bones of chalk that tend to ache.
I know the spin of a moral compass.
And what is true within each one of us.
For Satan tried to grab my soul one day.
When I was down on my knees to pray.
And promised heaven and all the earth.
If I would part with what I’ve had since birth.
But I knew that cunning devil.
Was not true, or on the level.
And would leave me lost and doomed.
When the horsemen rode to their apocalyptic tune.
So though he lured and tried to test.
Reach within and corrupt the best.
I fall into the unknown whole.
With my heart intact, and with my soul.