362. That Is Where I’ll Be

If you can not find me. I’ll tell you where I’ll be…


–My heart belongs to the ocean.

My arms belong to the skies.

My soul belongs to the mountains,

My breath forever flies,

Upon the drifting winds,

Of Earth’s loving embrace;

And sings to me a lullaby,

As meteors give chase…

Seeking that which only those,

Born of earth, may find:

A home within the woodlands,

And a peacefulness of mind;

Where mother sings us to sleep,

Beneath the vast beyond,

And tucks us in with billowed clouds,

And a heart profoundly fond.

My heart belongs to the ocean.

My feet belong to the breeze.

My soul belongs to the mountains,

My home’s among the trees.–

That is where you’ll find me…

…That is where I’ll be.

K. Aldaya, 8/15/16

Picture:  http://www.wall321.com/Nature/Forests/water_outer_space_trees_dark_night_stars_forest_darker_than_black_anime_shooting_star_lakes_reflecti_1031

334. Night Dreams


The foggy night is cool and glistens,

With the rains of yesterday,

And I find myself saddened again,

By the loneliness of it’s gray.

Yet, I know this is my hour of choice.

The peaceful and tranquil hour,

When most humans are found fast asleep,

And I feel most safe within my tower…

To look out into the universe,

And wish upon a star or moon,

For their beauty to become an eternal song,

So I may forever hum out their tune.

I long to stay and sing out,

Into the silence of eternity;

Though it makes me sad to be alone,

It’s far better with no company.

The stars will hear and twinkle bright,

And the moon will brightly beam.

No matter how dark and lonely the night,

It still can feel like a dream.

I’ve yet to meet one human being,

Who cares to hear my song or voice;

Instead my voice is ripped from me,

And the soul is left no choice…

It runs away and hides behind,

Cordialities and facades.

The body lingers devoid of life,

At the edge of gambled-odds.

There is no dream unbroken by,

The realities of humankind.

Will we ever be safe in each other’s arms,

Or truly understand another’s mind?

Until that day or maybe never,

I will hope and dream at night.

Alone I will sing to the distant moon,

And when tears fall they’ll express the flight,

Of my soul into the skies.

K. Aldaya, 2/25/16

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.playbuzz.com/shira10/22-unbelievable-facts-about-the-human-body-that-will-blow-your-mind

314. The Sorceress


They say she is a Goddess,

And that the Gods she hears,

Though if you were to ask her,

She’d say, “Listen with your ears”.

The Earth is full of Spirits,

And their voices echo.

If you’re still and silent,

You may learn to hear, and know;

That there is life around you,

In every flower and tree.

In every bird soaring the skies.

In every buzzing bee.

She prophesies true beauty,

In the songs she sings each day,

To the universes’ melody,

Which holds her in its’ sway.

They say she is a Sorceress,

Whose voice divines the fates,

Though if you were to ask her,

She’d say she,”Simply narrates”.

For the story is being told,

In all of creation,

And if you were to listen,

You’d see all things have relation.

They say she is an enchantress,

Whose incantations hex,

Though if you’d only listen,

You’d hear the Analects:

Of nature and existence,

Of beautiful complexities;

Revelations and connections,

Which sing upon the breeze.

K. Aldaya, 7/30/15

Picture: Photo for Anna Sui Collection for O’Neill; https://instagram.com/p/1bMmWgJTaP/

302. Gothic


The beauty of the universe,

Is truly a sight to behold.

There is joy to be found in many places,

And if I could be so bold…

I’d say: Beauty has many faces.

Even in the darkest of nights,

When shadows traverse the planet,

The universe is seen more dazzling and pure;

And all the stars which span it,

Only the darkness can confer.

True beauty is not found skin-deep.

Things which on the surface may seem,

Dark and depressing or freakish and bizarre,

May be just the things which beam,

And bare the most enchanting star.

You shouldn’t reject out of hand,

The beauty which lies in the dark.

You may find you’ve missed, what in life, is most grand:

Something which shines in the dark!

You may miss a new stars’ first spark.

K. Aldaya, 4/26/15

Picture: Interpretation of Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night by Alex Ruiz; http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/starry-night-alex-ruiz.jpg

277. Seduction


He knew better than to dream.

Yet he,…he dreamt anyway.

Darkness lifts for a time as days’ gleam.

Ah, the temptress-sun loves to play,

With the hearts of hopeful men.

Oh, see well what cannot be.

See thee clearly what will die,

When dark descends and souls we bury.

Unadjusted eyes more outcry,

The loss of ‘what might have been’.

Time is both reaper and muse;

E’er blooming and withering.

Aware it’s the reapers’ time we use,

To grab hope-worms a’slithering;

And live as ‘productive’ men.

He knew better than to dream,

Yet he,…he dreamt anyway.

The pain is greatest for men who dream.

Agony is sure,…Yet lo, the day!

What a seductive oarsman!

…on this boat to the River Styx.

K. Aldaya, 9/22/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://hdwallpapersly.com/favourite-river-boat-at-sunset-wallpaper/favourite-river-boat-at-sunset-wallpaper-2/

271. On a Path Through The Woods


There is a path through the woods,

Which winds and twists a course,

Through its’ bold coniferous steeples,

Rising from their source:

The earth and its’ wood-spirits,

They call out from the deep.

Why is it those voices seep through me,

And stir my soul to weep?

What words have I to write-out,

Of how lovely and rich?

The forests are, to those who can hear,

In the ‘unheard’ pitch.

Of light fairy fantasies.

Flowing brooks and rivers.

Of high, ancient trunks as wise as Gods;

And time, which delivers….

A carefree hum on the breeze.

Hum: to the flow of life…

And death, where spirits dwell lost in dance;

Where I, and my life,

May drift into their trance…

On a path through the woods.

K. Aldaya, 5/27/14

Picture:  Artist Unknown; Originally from Crazy-Frankenstein.com; http://www.jogjis.com/stock/summer-forest-wallpapers.jpg

204. Content


The wind is blowing softly,

With the scent of the coming fall.

I yearn for it,

And hope for it,

As never I have before.

The anger I knew once,

A focused beam of strength;

And everyday, yes every day,

I pray my blessed-thanks.

“You’ll be okay”,

“You’ll be alright”,

Whispers in my ears;

From out the peace,

Which does not cease,

Between the earth and me.

You’re free.

You’re free!

And you can be,

All you choose to be!

For in the present,


I’m content to be me.

K. Aldaya, 9/05/06

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xrBZH-rXkMQ/T51Oaxg4L0I/AAAAAAAACRY/B6O1YC8bv4Q/s400/girl,sun,pretty,running,freedom,sunlight-fb8641fa231ee1cbdd389e2f773a1b3b_h.jpg

145. Freedom to Dream

The birds fly through the trees,

Enriching our eyes with each glimpse.

The freedoms we seek from birth,

Flowing on wings of fair-primps:

Feathers of nature-bound worth.

Whisper your secrets to me on air,

Creaking down stagnant-dreamers:

Trees that reach toward the heavens,

Entreating enchantment-glimmers.

From the sun of divine-leavens.


Float through the halls of Valhalla,

O’ blessed creatures, soar and deliver,

The glory-soaked emancipations,

Of souls of vast times…now a quiver;

On birds with knowledge for all nations.

Freedom’s not a gift or privilege,

Something given to only a few.

Freedom’s what every spirit born,

Through all times and every land through,

Needs to count themselves earth-born.

For just as the sun daily shines,

And the trees reach to catch its’ beams.

The birds, just as us, must seek also,

To live an existence which gleams.

And flying with wings let ago…

As all the souls who’ve come and go,

To find life is a haven of limitless dreams!

K. Aldaya, 6/11/05

Picture:  “Soar” by Nomadlens; http://www.nomadlens.com/old/index-showimage=60.php.html

131. Good Things to Come


Birds are chirping fiercely,

A sign of good things to come,

For just ’cause you can’t see its’ worth,

Doesn’t conclude that it has none.

Shut your eyes and listen…,

Listen to their song of life.

Bury deep their soft melodies,

Which sooth passing-times’ lurking strife.

Let their voices lead you,

Each day, by day, by day long,

To hum a happy tune of hope:

That life can bring to ear sweet-song.

Good things are on their way,

Found by some but there for all,

Flowing from the breath of ‘God’s’ love,

Through birds, for mens’ hearts to enthrall.

—–In morn his passions’ call.

K. Aldaya, 3/17/05

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://www.iwallscreen.com/stock/morning-birds-hd-wallpaper.jpg

129. La Luna Song

O’ la luna,

Dance me in your light.

Spin me through the blackened fields,

Grass-blades shimmering in your sight,

On this crisp October night.

O’ la luna,

Caress this soft eve-wind,

So it will lull with crawling flesh,

And whispering, “rescind, rescind”…,

Carry ‘way the soul un-skinned.


O’ la luna,

Revive they song and sing,

Of gallantry, valor true,

And hearty so it doth ring,

Echoing through everything.

O’ la luna,

Your presence dragoons,

The spirit to endure and frolic to the seeping tunes,

Flowing down from beacon-moons.

O’ la luna,

Drip down into me.

Sift through cracks of rusted-bone;

Free the longing reverie:

Fiery reserves of glee.

O’ la luna,

For in your light and air,

Fairies flutter whimsically,

In the weightless air, so fair;

Free, vibrant, without a care!

O’ la luna,

Bail out the prisoned-dream.

Deep beyond the bones and flesh is…,

A subsisting thought to deem:

There’s more life than what may seem.

O’ la luna,

Locked and chained to the law,

The conditions of judges,

Belie my core with a flaw;

And leaves me ‘lone and in awe.

O’ la luna,

Unsuited by the skin.

A realization’s found…,

Dancing with a fairy-spin,

A contentment long hidden.

O’ la luna,

From out the bones it runs,

Set loose upon the midnight,

To be and live, and dance suns,

Into the dark-world of shuns.

O’ la luna,

My spirit runs to thee,

Declaring in a whisper,

“Dance me in your light…hold me”.

And spins in the crisp-nights’ air,

The unquenchable passion to be.

K. Aldaya, 3/7/05

Picture:  from wildretina.com; Artist Unknown; http://www.wildretina.com/nature/photo/full-moon-in-night-sky-over-water.jpg

108. Golden Memories


On a day many years ago,

In a town of old,

I walked the streets of gray,

To find myself some gold.

Not the gold that feeds the hand,

But a gold inside.

A moment that sparkles a kind,

Memory, for heart to hide.

Just one moment of a tree,

With brightly colored leaves.

In this autumn this old tree,

Kind remembrance ‘chieves.

It only takes a small deep glance,

At a common beauty,

To store away the memories of ,

All which the Earth finds duty.

Don’t forget to take a breath,

And see all there is to see.

For these lovely visions are,

What can make heart’s free.

K. Aldaya, 12/4/04

Picture:  “An Autumn Stroll-West Bennington Vermont” by Thomas Schoeller: http://thomas-schoeller.artistwebsites.com/; http://fineartamerica.com/featured/an-autumn-stroll-west-bennington-vermont-thomas-schoeller.html

100. Winters’ Entrance


Leaves in the autumn breeze float, flip, and turn.

Soon will come winters’ freeze,

Snow and cold earn.

End of these colored-days,

Blank branches show.

A leaf slowly fade-aways,

And soon there is snow!

K. Aldaya, 11/08/04

Picture:  “Snow Around Billericay” by Rhea Fowler; http://blog.dormify.com/style-notes/easy-winter-decorations/attachment/snow-around-billericay-676029