Sorely Missing Wilderness

I woke with an aching soul
a yearning to be free
away, apart, alone again
just wildness and me

humanness had left me dumb
senses dulled, spirit numb
and then I heard the ancient call
smiled
walked out
and left it all

rambling down an empty road
I crossed the last frontier
and stood once more in wilderness
and heard my heart beat

here

here

here

tio stib

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You Will Always Be My Valentine

as I walk the mourning streets alone
holding the hand that isn’t there
her memory calls to me

my love teacher

smile!
life is a precious gift
delight in the wonder of each new day
embrace the sun’s warm touch
dance with moon shadows
drown yourself in the pleasures of flowers
play with children
laugh with babies

love

love

simply love

maria y steve in sand copy.jpg

you will always be my valentine

tio stib

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Winter

flowers fallen
songbirds gone
frozen toes
the door no longer open
to breathe the morning air

shorts and t-shirt changed
for jacket and cap
shoes for sandals
daily rambles become urgent
fast paced walks

blue skies buried
by marching clouds
dark wetness
pouring down

winter is creeping
cold
into my heart

huddling
in the long night
wrapped in the warmth of memories
my soul shudders

seeds lie dormant
dreams unborn

and I hope for Spring

tio stib

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Come Out, Come Play

cold, naked, hard,
it shrieks
piercing down the empty streets
the wind beats on every door
you can hide from death no more

the restless souls stir in their beds
haunted by an ancient dread
the walls cannot keep out the fear
the truth that fate is always near

far beyond where wrong knows right
the sun peeks past the edge of night
and streaking ‘cross the stage of day
light calls to life

come out
come play

tio stib
2015, 2021

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Rajani Radhakrishnan, a Poet worth visiting

One of the joys of blogging is connecting with other bloggers and it is a special pleasure to connect with those whose words resonate in deeper ways. Rajani RadhaKrishnan is a poet from Bangalore, India whose writing strikes such a chord.

First, although I enjoy poetry in many of its forms, I make no pretense of being any sort of authority on the subject. I simply know what I like. I came across Rajani’s work as I searched WordPress for other world views I could relate to. Rajani’s poetry of intimate immediacy and alluring metaphors, captivated me. In part, this is because the intricate complexities of  her Indian culture push me to stretch my mental horizons. In part because the subjects she writes about are universal, simply one poet’s view of a different side of the same life mountain we all struggle to climb.

Rajani’s poetry is richly colored, sublimely sensual, and always thought provoking. Here is a passage from her recent chapbook, “The Night is My Mirror.”

Things that may not end 

The unfinished poem is my safe place. The map I was

given had no home or river or road — just a cloud-masked

sky hiding stars in frenzied kinesis. Whoever said it was all

about the journey, did not frame love as a destination. Or

as a beginning. But an incomplete poem neither travels nor

waits. Its flaws are not bound by linear time or karmic

causality. The final words will come in random sequence,

one unremarkable morning between the mundane and the

rain. The poem-to-be is the circumference of hope, hope that

the rainbow is the impulsive confession of the wettest light.

-Rajani Radhakrishnan 2020
You can enjoy Rajani’s poetry and find her books on her WordPress website, “ThotPurge, Incomplete Thoughts” –  https://thotpurge.wordpress.com/

tio stib

Hope

what pulls us back to life each day 

is it duty 
a job to do 
commitments 
responsibilities 

or is there something more 
something beyond routine
beyond the mundane 
beyond “just another day” 

beyond “should” 

beyond “have to” 

what is it that gets us up in spite
of stormy thoughts
in spite of 
frenzied fears
clouds of tears that drown the sun
tragic memories that drag us down 

struggling to assure my mind 
a new day will be better 
I can only answer for myself 

somehow 
something 
will make the effort of living worthwhile 

in this purgatory moment
it is hope that feeds my hungry heart 
it is hope that soothes my aching soul 

it is my hope
that love will show the way

tio stib 

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Be Still and Know

Be Still and Know

veiled in mindless mystery
the new year starts with fog
a wind of chilled uncertainty
a silent shroud of doubt

there are no sounds of distant trains
no birds, no passersby
no dreamy thoughts of far off Springs

just loneliness
just me
just I

but as I hear my trembling heart
craving love’s sweet warmth

whisper words from long ago

be still

be still and know

tio stib

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Burning Dreams

today
I burned our dreams

all the visions
all the goals
all the plans we’d made together

I placed them on a funeral pyre

lit them up

let them go

watched them melt in flames
felt them float away in smoke

and I smiled

for together
we lived those dreams
walking hand in hand

in the heart of God

tio stib

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Shape Shifting

the mirror of life stares back at me
a history of those times once free
the many men I’d tried to be
the many worlds I’d longed to see
so many new realities
I lived in hopes of finding me

some were good and some were bad
there were happy times and sad
joyful moments and some quite mad
questing for the dreams I had

some lasted days, some only hours
some grew from seeds to lovely flowers
but then the moment finally came
when each went up in spirit’s flame

was I born a vagabond
to never settle down for long
to never truly quite belong
heart pulled on by distant song

lovers, friends, and passersby
I’ve known them all
said my goodbyes
but now, as I face the end
I wonder if I’ll fly again

the caterpillar exists to eat
the pupa then goes off to sleep
and in its sacred, silky place
transforms into a different face

and so I build my new cocoon
as life within me starts to swoon
in hopes that with the coming moon
I will stretch my wings once more
and fly away to distant shores

so begins my every day
shape shifting in the cosmic play

tio stib
2016, 2018, 2019, 2020

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Breakfast of Memories

for fifty years they’d each returned
back to the same cafe
gathered round the same table
these small town knights
slowly sipping coffee
reviving the Camelot of their youth
alive again
in a breakfast of memories

stories swirled
more smiles than scars
the pranks, the mindless adventures
girlfriends real, love imagined
mountains climbed and races won
friends recalled and gone

they talked of how they’d loved this place
had never thought to leave
but life and time had swept them off
to chase their separate dreams

not one head turned to watch them go
the gray men and their ghosts
and silence roared to fill the void
of legends lost to most

tio stib
2019, 2020

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