in retreat … i wait

in retreat i wait for a voice

a sense, an assurance
a word of admonition, a declaration
of a direction and i wait

to charge my soul, rundown battery

and i am seated in front
of that window with curtain
rolled, and my coffee cup empty

it is a wintry morning

with a moon waning
yet to set
as leafless boughs sway

and pine branches

have shed the snow
as bunches
of mountain ash berries swing

they add

an extravagant red
to rising reddish rays

but in retreat

i wait
for light
to shine in heart

© henry victor     11.02.2004

triumph and failure

when intoxicated with triumph

fame follows as the path winds

through hours, days, weeks

months, and years!

but a little failure, a minor stumble

on a little boulder may rock the boat

appearing as an insurmountable

mountain that can never be conquered

hence the heart hangs

with feet up like a bat

even when much light is around

for mind to sail on wings of the wind

© henry victor     23.01.2004

post a poem

observing the depth, width, and length

i refuse to scuttle like a galloping horse;

hence i choose to carefully scan the world

like a tortoise surveying, slowly, the path

superficiality, i know, refuses to dive deep

to follow the path of the cormorant

prompting the world to survey like a crow

picking crumbs and not dive for pearls

withdrawing from the rat race of this world

as a half-naked hermit with the minimum

i enter into the court, the cave of my heart

occasionally coming out to piss a poem

 

© henry victor     23.11.2003

bamboo branch

with vacuum i have filled

my vacant mind

transforming self

into an empty bamboo branch

now i wait for you to blow

your whispering wind

bouncing rhyme and rhythm

by being in that void

singing a song in my heart

making my soul to leap

and dance as my dead body

walks to my grave

that final empty space

for a final sleep

as my soul braves your surface

like a lion not un-brave

© henry victor     01.08.2003

my roads

i have traveled many roads

highways and byways of varied size

and countless length

i have often journeyed with much load

and at times with none

hardly an extra change of clothes

many nights i have slept on roads

counting the uncountable stars

while being stung by beastly bugs

and malicious mosquitoes

in my sojourns i have met numerous spirits

including Buddha, Jesus, and Muhammad

frequently in perfect harmony

and at times at squabbles and war

in these wanderings

roads that were not closed i cherished much

that i may reach home like a mother bird

to feed the nestlings

but now a road that is closed is what i desire

that i may never leave home

© henry victor     09.09.2003

sun in midnight

i am

with me alone

my tea-candle lit

wavering,

gently

silence surround

but the buzzing in my furnace

and an oozing, a little noise

in my laptop

remind the working well

peace? yes

no peace? yes

that beyond is mine

my quest

understanding? yes

not understanding? yes

that beyond is mine

my present

emptying, that self-emptying

a self-esteem found in Jesus

walking to his tree

lifted high, higher than

any social ladder could lift my soul

if possible, before my sleep

with no dream and no blanket

wool, cotton or the synthetic

most ticks those that itched

my mind and body have left me

looking and searching for other dogs

leaving me to heal the scars

they left on the skin of my soul

i sit alone contemplating

that balm that removes

stain on my spirit

will i find, or not

matter very little

to me now

but i am looking

with that midnight

sun

that matter most

henry victor     05.11.2011

arms to embrace

you have given me much moons

and plenty of many an opportunity

yet i remain absolutely empty

but pleading from you for more!

awake now my soul! for it is time

to rise from sleep and slumber

to un-hoard the clutter of desire

in that nothing, the ego, act as if all

instead stretch your arms to embrace

the homeless, the hermits, the marginal

and the bleeding, walking also to the jail

to set free the broken-wing birds to fly!

© henry victor       02.01.2016

fishing within

i sit alone

in my abandoned farmhouse

in front of this great silence

far away from people

busy doing this, that

and all those i do not do

and i do not have to do

in that quiet stillness

i thank you, you who have so well

concealed yourself

as that snow covered soil

but only making me feel well

your patent presence

i noiselessly thank you

the most mute

for those noisy, nameless

black-capped chickadees

who so faithfully visit me

and mine and share my gifts

of sunflower seed

without prying into my privacy

i thank you for the frozen winter

that justifies my sitting

to fish within my self

this deep unclear pond

my own creation

who’s content for me to conquer

this one life is inadequate

for the soundless surmount

providing me another opportunity

in your eternity

and in the presence of your vastness

of time and space

i lose all my anxiety to hurry up

to grab any garbage

in any case i cannot, to your territories take

and therefore i am grateful

to the boundless space i enjoy

and i pray that you throw me

into the unrestricted space of the distant star

and not into that icy world

of the speckled trout

henry victor     18.12.2002