145. Freedom to Dream

The birds fly through the trees,

Enriching our eyes with each glimpse.

The freedoms we seek from birth,

Flowing on wings of fair-primps:

Feathers of nature-bound worth.

Whisper your secrets to me on air,

Creaking down stagnant-dreamers:

Trees that reach toward the heavens,

Entreating enchantment-glimmers.

From the sun of divine-leavens.

Float through the halls of Valhalla,

O’ blessed creatures, soar and deliver,

The glory-soaked emancipations,

Of souls of vast times…now a quiver;

On birds with knowledge for all nations.

Freedom’s not a gift or privilege,

Something given to only a few.

Freedom’s what every spirit born,

Through all times and every land through,

Needs to count themselves earth-born.

For just as the sun daily shines,

And the trees reach to catch its’ beams.

The birds, just as us, must seek also,

To live an existence which gleams.

And flying with wings let ago…

As all the souls who’ve come and go,

To find life is a haven of limitless dreams!

K. Aldaya, 6/11/05

Picture: “Soar” by Nomadlens; http://www.nomadlens.com/old/index-showimage=60.php.html

137. Hearts of Hope

I rode by Hope Drive today,

On a day as any day,

Steady on the sought-for path,

Chasing fluid-dreams that below gray clouds hath.

What is it about this land,

Which makes us e’er strive o’er sand?

Shifted by the winds of chance,

On roads we flow on in a lively dance.

Little known about the course,

But for the sun and moons’ source.

Predictable dances danced,

To the flourishing of us: daily entranced.

Bearing caskets of regret,

And pains dug-up from times’ set.

Creaking-timber haunts foots stepped,

Upon aged-stone where progress is oft’ backswept.

Then a season comes to clear,

For a moment trusts seem near.

On a day like any other,

The tired road traveled passes another.

Desires to continue…,

Trust in humans found anew.

“Life is short”, we echo out,

As a brazen bell of funerals devout.

So we drive along our way,

Each and every bloody day,

Stepping on the cracks we’ve made,

On roads we ride on in daily masquerade.

Our footprints cut in the cracks,

Pouring crimson hurts from backs,

Over-burdened with remorse,

From the afflictions of predescended course.

Even with our scarlet feet,

Weeping from our journeys’ seat.

Eyes glisten with the sure sight,

Of a Hope Drive: reminding us of the light!

I rode by Hope Drive today,

On a day as any day,

Steady on lifes’ constant path,

Chasing the hope of dreams which each heart hath.

K. Aldaya, 5/7/05

131. Good Things to Come

Birds are chirping fiercely,

A sign of good things to come,

For just ’cause you can’t see its’ worth,

Doesn’t conclude that it has none.

Shut your eyes and listen…,

Listen to their song of life.

Bury deep their soft melodies,

Which sooth passing-times’ lurking strife.

Let their voices lead you,

Each day, by day, by day long,

To hum a happy tune of hope:

That life can bring to ear sweet-song.

Good things are on their way,

Found by some but there for all,

Flowing from the breath of ‘God’s’ love,

Through birds, for mens’ hearts to enthrall.

—–In morn his passions’ call.

K. Aldaya, 3/17/05

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.iwallscreen.com/stock/morning-birds-hd-wallpaper.jpg

129. La Luna Song

O’ la luna,

Dance me in your light.

Spin me through the blackened fields,

Grass-blades shimmering in your sight,

On this crisp October night.

O’ la luna,

Caress this soft eve-wind,

So it will lull with crawling flesh,

And whispering, “rescind, rescind”…,

Carry ‘way the soul un-skinned.

O’ la luna,

Revive they song and sing,

Of gallantry, valor true,

And hearty so it doth ring,

Echoing through everything.

O’ la luna,

Your presence dragoons,

The spirit to endure and frolic to the seeping tunes,

Flowing down from beacon-moons.

O’ la luna,

Drip down into me.

Sift through cracks of rusted-bone;

Free the longing reverie:

Fiery reserves of glee.

O’ la luna,

For in your light and air,

Fairies flutter whimsically,

In the weightless air, so fair;

Free, vibrant, without a care!

O’ la luna,

Bail out the prisoned-dream.

Deep beyond the bones and flesh is…,

A subsisting thought to deem:

There’s more life than what may seem.

O’ la luna,

Locked and chained to the law,

The conditions of judges,

Belie my core with a flaw;

And leaves me ‘lone and in awe.

O’ la luna,

Unsuited by the skin.

A realization’s found…,

Dancing with a fairy-spin,

A contentment long hidden.

O’ la luna,

From out the bones it runs,

Set loose upon the midnight,

To be and live, and dance suns,

Into the dark-world of shuns.

O’ la luna,

My spirit runs to thee,

Declaring in a whisper,

“Dance me in your light…hold me”.

And spins in the crisp-nights’ air,

The unquenchable passion to be.

K. Aldaya, 3/7/05

Picture: from wildretina.com; Artist Unknown; http://www.wildretina.com/nature/photo/full-moon-in-night-sky-over-water.jpg

127. A Life of Serenity

Serenity be ye more than a thought?

In conflicted days,

To find peace that is sought?

A light airy haze,

Where sparkling joy is wrought?

Joy be ye more than a laugh or a smile?

In soft happy lines,

Stretching forth in long miles,

Passing memory signs?

Belief fills bloods’ vials.

Joy-serene ye can be more than these dreams.

Believe the journey,

Is more than what it seems.

Past holds no guide key,

To life-roads your soul deems.

K. Aldaya, 2/28/05

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://persolaise.blogspot.com/2012/01/whats-chypre-when-its-at-home.html