The tomb
Heaven’s womb
The womb
Death’s tomb

When did you stop caring?
When you stopped fearing.
Your life is a window you’re wearing
Your death is an illusion you’re bearing

You can break with your past
Without committing suicide
Look out and cast
Your nesting mast
And thinking nests outside
Out wide.

You are not
What you think you are
What they think you are
What you’ve been told you are
What you’ve never been told you are
Because you forgot.



Because of something misunderstood, although constantly seen, we fought; we fought against one another. Neither of us was killed in the intense battle, but our friendship died, brutally murdered by mistrust and injured vanity and faults unconquered in you and me.

There was a word we left unspoken. Would that one had spoken it all this time, would that we had broken down the barriers, the artificial barriers, yesterday.

One day too late, yet all we see are smiles. Is it a joke, or a word of comfort, or a tale, an apology, a ruse, poetry or a bridge? Like it was when we started, like it was, is. Secrets sleeping sleep on still in the sands beneath the sea, lapping up the shores of solemn promises that may never be broken, until the sands are wetted and the rigid stances have melted, lest we break.



Twice I touched her heart
So she cried

Once she cried
And then she cried no more.



Not because of what you did
Or did not do…

Not because of what you said
Or failed to say…

Not because of what you know
Or never came to know…

But because in your eyes I espy
A certain thing
Which I cannot immediately define
But by which I have hope
That you will be the important one in my life…




Love is a unique thing
It possesseth that quality
Which for want of comprehension entire
One feels inclined to call magic

It overcomes all obstacles
And, as an obstacle, cannot be overcome
How it does this, no one knows
But the Origin of Love itself

Open yourself to love
That it may full-fill you
The more you love,
The more you live.



Romon’s strange adventure had not ended. Incredibly, he was still following the single song. Hundreds of years had passed by without him noticing it. Was it not just moments ago that he had awoken to the searing sound of this single song and set off after it over sunny meadows in a morningland? It filled him completely, rid him of all concepts of time and distance. He only knew the song, followed it. Occasionally he still felt that little twinge, that pull from behind him as though he were being called, sought somewhere else, as though he were bound to somewhere else. But the sound of this single song… it pulled him… he followed.

In the distance he saw a giant gate. The volume of the single song had risen, the cadence of the lonely female voice singing it had richened and broadened. It became clear to him that the song was coming from behind that gate. He hurried towards it. It was at the top of a gently upward-sloping hill.

He perceived a strange feeling within him – he had passed through these gates before! But when? He was memoryless. Everything that had happened to him before he woke up to this strange song seemed buried in an absynthian cloud of amnesia.

Finally he stood before the gate. He paused. Now that he was here he did not know what to do. Since he had began his slow journey after the single song, this was the first time he had stopped. And the single song was still coming, still sounding from in front of him, from behind the shut gate.

Shut! No bell, no handle. How was he to open it? Or was it supposed to open up on its own? Under what conditions? Romon studied the gate carefully. What was he looking for? He had forgotten. Forgotten? – but when had he known before? And why did this place look so familiar? Even the voice singing out this aloneness sounded very familiar. Who was she? What was happening? Was this a dream? Was he dead or alive?

Suddenly Romon became desperate! The certainty had suddenly become alive within him that this gate should have opened up to him, unless something was wrong. Unless something was wrong…

He listened. Why was it so still? No life stirred around him. Only the isolated female voice continued to emit the searing, soul-shaking single song. Romon’s sense of desperation heightened and, even before he was aware of it, he heard his own voice calling out, trembling slightly:

“Please, let me in! Woman singing this song, please let me in!”

The sound of his voice died away, unheard, unechoed, unanswered. Bewilderment joined his desperation. What was behind this glowing, familiar, opaque gate? Why was his heart beating so hard? Why was he being denied entrance?

He banged on the gate, calling out again for help at the same time, his actions staccato and unthinking, almost involuntary – all he was. But as his fist touched the gate, it were as though a force, like an electric current, seized him, burnt him and flung him back! He landed in a heap several paces away from the shut, silent gate, in pain and near unconscious; and from her unknown point in the world behind that gate, the unknown woman continued to sing her single song.

Romon staggered slowly back unto his feet and felt tears well up from inside him.. He was being denied entrance. Why? What had he done? Who was he? He turned around to walk away but the single song, like a magnet, enroped him and pulled him back. Romon’s sobs became louder, harder. He couldn’t go back, he couldn’t go forward. Why?

“Oh, please help me. Somebody help me please!” he began to pray.

Romon looked again toward the gate and immediately cried out, startled. There was a man standing beside the gate. He had crystal-clear eyes. How long had he been standing there? How come Romon had not seen him all along? Who was he?

Involuntarily, Roman took a step toward him. Simultaneously, the man also approached.

“Romon,” said the stranger, ”dry your tears. Why do you weep? Why do you weep so?”

Romon?? Was that his name? Yes! But…but…when?…

“Do… do you know me?

“Of course I know you, Romon, you’re my friend.”

“Friend?… But when? Are we dreaming or are we awake?”

The stranger studied Romon awhile with his crystal-clear eyes.

“You’ve really forgotten,” he said and shook his head.

“What have I forgotten.”

Instead of answering, the stranger asked:

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I’m just following that song. It sounds so familiar. I’ve been here before. I know I should be in the world behind that gate, but it’s shut. I’m confused.”

“You’re right,” said the stranger, “you come from behind there… far far away.”

“Oh! Then why can I not enter?”

“Do you really not know, King Romon?” As he spoke his crystal-clear eyes flashed straight into Romon’s core. And, in that moment, suddenly the faint, vague sensing of a forgotten memory flashed up before him. A kingdom! A crown! A son! A funeral! – flashed briefly, and then was all-too-quickly gone.

“Nhauh!…” was all he could utter.

“Follow me, Romon,” said the stranger. “I have much to show you!”

Romon followed the stranger further to the left, a little lower down the hill. It appeared to him as though the other man were floating and, strange, for the first time focusing on himself, he also felt the same about himself. He had been floating even as he walked, all along.

The stranger stopped. Romon halted by his side. In front of them was what looked like a well; wide, round and smooth.

“Look into the well!” said the stranger softly, but firmly.

Romon obeyed. Clouds? Yes, clouds, that’s what he was seeing. White, fluffy clouds, tiny and so life-like, floating in the well. He continued looking and immediately, they condensed and showered as rain into the heart of the well, there to collect as clear, blue water. And then the water quivered, became like a mirror. For one moment the two on-lookers caught a brief glimpse of their reflection on its surface, and then suddenly a picture was captured upon the water’s surface. The water, bearing the picture, rose, floated up to the top of the well, becoming clearly discernible. It was a kingdom.

“Where – where is that?”

“That…” said the stranger, “is the earth.”

A shock wave ran through Romon. The Earth? Where or what was that? Roman gazed in unbridled curiosity at the picture before him. This kingdom, this place, it looked so familiar…familiar…fami-!

He remembered!

“Dara!” he cried. “My country! My people! How could I have forgotten?”

What happened to him? To his land and people? To his son Siama? How is it possible to totally forget everything?…

… to be continued.


The Single Song – 9.


Human characters incarnate
And re-incarnate.

Each stay on another Earth is but
A continuation.

It is limited by time and
Saturated by responsibility.

There is a task…

– this is the objective happening,
always to be borne in mind.

The key to fulfilment is Love,
Always to be borne in Heart.

You running and you running and you running away,
Sang Mr. Bob Marley

But you can’t run away from yourself.



In seeking Contact with people
Seek that within them
Which is the core of their
Human essence.

There is a moment
Like an electric shock,
When humanity meets humanity
Your cores touch
And so do always your chores –

A kickstart into the Quick
Hearts run like rivers
Seeking the sea. Let it be.



A monster of a man
World on his shoulders
Yet fragile is his heart
Go easy on him

He will lift world records
With muscle-rippling ease
But a heavy heart, a broken heart
Will weigh him down

His ego is no bigger than yours
And when he cuddles his little baby
His arms are just as gentle
Trembling hands, subtle fingers

He was a weightlifter
Now he’s down, leaden of heart –
Who will be the one to
Stroke his head and gently lift him up?

He is light as a feather if you ease his pain
Easy like a Sunday morning
Will melt in your hands like butter
Fly with you to the midnight moon, effortlessly.



We’re walking on air
It’s a carpet of sometimes white
Sometimes grey and fair
Domed by azure blue and bright
Cushion of cloud.

Creation, I’m sure, is proud
Of its laws, perfect and very (extra) ordinary
Treasures for all who seek and invent
Awe-inspiring, comforting, scary
They make us small and silent.



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