Author: strangerpaths

Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things. I am Zee

Changes

She missed the smell

Of the slightly rotten wood

Covered by the scent of cinnamon

Freshly baked bread

And warm coffee

She missed the morning mist

And the days she felt lonely

As this new home

Carried a new smell

The fresh paint

Had no story to tell

He smiled and assured her

We’ll make it our own

With our son on the way

You’ll never been alone

Stranger

She wandered

Looking for happiness

Thirsting for a smile

In a desert of her own creation

Every inch felt like a mile

She lost her way

Hoping to find herself

The familiar stranger

She lost on a shelf

Too high to reach

Too dusty to see

Her own reflection

She sighed:

Oh how I miss me

The Strange Rock

I see the ocean

Waves covering waves

Seeking the sands

As the child reaches out his hands

Rain falls

Tongue extended out

Water erasing their doubts

The desert tired of its droughts

We dance the rain dance

While the waves flood the lands

Far away

Someone sitting to pray

For the house to float

For a help in the form of a boat

For the moon to diminish its pull

For a glass half full

For air to remain

For the crazy and the sain

To unit

Maybe the desert needed the flood

The ocean needed the sand

And we here stand

Witnesses

Of a strong desire

We rest but do not tire

Of this spinning planet

The only home we inhabit

This strange rock called earth