Between the times between the rhymes, the beat of life goes on,
Though sometimes stumbling through the dark, before the night has gone,
And yet again it can be dazzled by the rising of the dawn
Like many crumbling edifices as they are being born,
Yet sometimes in a setting sun or even a sunrise
Our poetry and life combine in wonderful surprise,
For whether night or day commands, the end game is the same
A moonlit rhyme is as special as a poem of flickering flame.


Above the rain above the clouds, soft silken echoes cry
Of how their voices fade away, of how they slowly die,
And how so many moments fall like memories set in gold
Like words from scattered poetry that are just so glad to hold,
So they sleep inside their stanzas until they wake up again
For poetry above most things can make my dreams explain
Why when thoughts have dried and gone, they still leave such a glow
Like leaves drifting in moonlight with a soft celestial flow.


Among life’s songs are rights and wrongs, soft stars and sun and rain
That wrap themselves around the night, and rise with dawn again,
Sometimes the rain is clandestine, a pitter-patter rooftop scene
That plays its tune mysteriously, to what’s to be from what has been,
And all in all life’s scales tip both ways, from clouded skies to crystal days
The scriptures tell us how life prays, not how there are so many ways,
For in the end what matters more is recognising every shore
To share in life’s continuous song, so hand in hand we’ll get along…