Driven by the shadows of daydream,
Why lust after what I’d never have?
Enticed by the brightness of its gleam,
Why expect I, more than I deserve?
If anyone in the illusions of his mind
Is obsessed with the tricks of fantasies,
Wouldn’t such sooner come to find
That they’re fairy tales and ecstasies?
For there is much more to this Life
Than would meet the ordinary eyes:
Full of vanity, and sufficient with strife,
Are all of deceit and devastating lies.
Daydream is nothing but a cold comfort
That only an awakening to reality can abort.





Half of a full moon in the sky,
Riding on the tides of the night;
Glowing from an horizon so high,
Half of a full moon ever bright.

Riding on the tides of the night,
The earth passes by with a smile;
Half of a full moon ever bright,
Always a sight so worthwhile.

The earth passes by with a smile
In response to the illumination;
Always a sight so worthwhile
Is that beautiful communication.

In response to the illumination
Glowing from an horizon so high,
Is that beautiful communication:
Half of a full moon in the sky.

A 3rd-place winner poem in a Pantoum Category Contest (February 2016) on




From this empyreal kiss of glory
My soul desires never to wake up…
Beyond the touch of His garment
I am drawn closer to that embrace…
An embrace that keeps getting wider
The more I seek to be enwrapped…
Words can just never convey my awe
However much I try to express…
This life I have is far less than a token
Compared to that which is peeping…
O that I may always in this realm
Behold these promises forever true…
My heart stretched beyond limits
And will just never know ill bounds…
A blinding radiance like a million suns
Lightening the path of this heart…
Leading me still to that Unimaginable
That my understanding can never contain…
And I just would never dare to go back
To where all is nothing but darkness…
For I have met with that impeccable Light
Whose shine is brighter and forever…
O from this empyreal kiss of glory
May my soul never wake up!




What at the least do I own
That I can proudly call mine:
My bountiful harvest of seeds sown,
Or the winepress of my vine?

A thousand sheep on a hill,
A thousand herds grazing there;
Not a one of them I own still,
Tho’ the ownership I somehow bear.

A thousand chests of gold,
A thousand boxes of silver wares;
And all of them still, I behold,
Are temporarily under my cares.

A thousand lines unpenned,
A thousand notes to my name;
Yet all of them till the very end,
Are but a borrowed life and fame.

“Vanity of vanities…Oh what a poor man I really am!”




One Name I’ll forever know;
One Name that never let me go;
One Name my heart daily sings;
One Name my bell always rings;
One Name that broke my chains;
One Name that heals my pains;
One Name the prophets foretold;
One Name more than silver and gold;
One Name above every other name;
One Name greater than all halls of fame;
One Name death could not hold bound;
One Name in Whom Life is found;
One Name the Voice of redemption;
One Name the remedy to damnation;
One Name beyond all mysteries;
One Name the cure to all miseries;
One Name nothing but amazing Love;
One Name the greatest from above;
One Name here in my grateful heart;
One Name the only from the very start;




Nebuchadnezzar his royal highness
Engulfed by the abundance of his sight,
Once mused himself to the madness
Which arose from the pride of his heart:
“Is this not the great Babylon kingdom
Built by the swiftness of my might?
The kingdom that seizes the freedom
Of whatsoever nation it chooses to fight!
Whosoever it deems me fit to spare,
What shall make him not see the night?
And whosoever’s life to spare I less care,
How could he escape my fury’s fright?!
O great Babylon the city of valour
Whose majesty of no precarious flight,
Remains at its best an epitome of honour
To the insatiable view of my delight!”

But while the utterances of his folly
Reeled from the abundance of his pride,
The Ancient of Days—Lord Most Holy—
Could not afford Himself of glory deprived;
Therefore He (God) had to prove to him
That all on which his pride such relied,
Were conquests which in his wildest dream
Couldn’t have been, however all he tried.
For only He (God) to whoever He wills,
Has that power and discretion to decide
Who is he who dies, and who is he who lives
—Even the fate of all that crawl and glide!
These He does that no flesh may share
In the glory which in Him alone should abide;
Even that no lifeless god may least bear
A glory with which it was never designed.

And so to him a Voice at the instant came
That in his next seven years to be spent,
He would be devoid of same feat and fame
By which he became so proud and impudent:
That he may know that only The Most High
Has the ultimate power at every moment,
To deliver into a king’s hands who should die
At any imaginable or unprecedented event.
Alas, a pathetic judgement was passed
(Which turned him a beast for a torment);
Oh, the disgraced king on the fields housed,
Far from the comfort of his majestic tent!
But the repented king (whose new birth
occured after the years of his punishment),
Praised the God of the heavens and earth
For such a great opportunity to repent.

"Yet the King Nebuchadnezzar is worthy of emulation for his recompense
of heart...But most especially, for his repentance from pride and folly!"




Remember me not for this wit
Which infallible does seem,
Neither for all that time would forfeit
Someday in my wildest dream.
But for who I chose to be
Amid many choices before me,
Remember me for all I never was.

Remember me not for the riches
Which by hard work I gather,
Neither for the come-to-pass wishes
That can never be mine forever.
But for all that I dared not do
In spite of the odds I went through,
Remember me for who I was.

Remember me not for skill
Nor fame which I could not avoid,
Neither for the grace and will
Which by myself I did not afford.
But for the benevolence of the One
By Whom great deeds are done,
Remember me for who I never was.