Rules of Jungle

There came the three,

The silent, short and troubled,

Settled down a tree,

Asking one and other

The first talked first,

About the rules and laws of jungle,

The second felt last,

While the third raised the fist.

There came the fourth,

Who cannot stand the noise,

Settling in middle,

The fourth spoke in murmers,

The third one lost the calm,

The Fist rose again.

The second found the sound,

Yet jammed it down the throat.

Day was neat and pure,

The tree was green and dry,

The rules and laws of jungle,

Stayed the same as then.

But the three of them and fourth,

Lost a teeth or two.

Where time goes

Are there any sorrow greater

Than losing the moments gone by,

Never to return in time.

Will there be more worries,

Than knowing this moment,

Will fade into the black.

Is there a joy greater,

Than not knowing what happens next.

Yearning for the inescapable.

Icy mountain.

An icy mountain once stood,

Blocking the raging sea from finding me.

The wind that came gushing,

Hindered by the gigantic rocks.

The clouds came raining,

The peaks pulled them out.

At last when the sun came up,

The icy mountain melted.

Flooding mine, in its own tears.

Away from the sea and storm,

To the valley of flowers.

Soul maker’s peace

There is a soul maker,

Lurking around every corner,

Paying attention to all around.

He is watching, what he sowed.

When the time comes, he reaps.

And what did he sow,

What else than your soul.

He plants it, waters it,

Face the light, the thunder,

the storm that plucks out the bad,

And at last who remain,

Who finds truth

He reaps at the end.

That is the soul makers truth.

Make life from life.