The willow hangs,
drapes the ground,
dances to a tune
unheard in the hum
of cars and lorries,
in the commotion of
people passing in a
hurry, barely noticing
anything more than the
phones tapped with
fingers & thumbs.
But I notice,
I see it all,
the dance on display,
the symbol of sanity
I need today.

Poetry gives the magic back to words
and makes words flesh again
as it was in the beginning
till our quantum-leap thoughts
spurred on by incantatory rhythms
often like latterday Gregorian chants
materialize into the dancing silhouettes
of solid but surrealistic forms in fantastic hues
thus the poet is the custodian of creation from nothing

Tonight, I sleep with a heavy heart.
Knowing that my parents are in for
Something they'll regret l
Knowing that I could have stood up for my sick mom to my drunk dad
But never did because
I was a disaster myself

I know I'm not getting any sleep tonight.
My brain and my imagination will run wild
Creating scenarios that might have happened

This always happens.
I drag my body to sleep but
A wave of overthinking wipes me out
And brings me back to shore

Every night I pray that
I get amnesia when I wake up
But then again I don't want to forget
The feeling of falling in love and being loved.
I don't want to forget the oranges and lemons life has given me through family and friends.

Tonight, I sleep with a heavy heart.
With my sick mom beside me
And a pillow to cry on.