Fumus Read Count : 15

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A



Befriend the Wind

It alone Circles. 

All Round and round 

It goes about

Taking the smoke

Blown from My mouth,

To the East.



I Inhale until 

Exhaled prayers flow.

Fuming Shouts of I

Broken heart And bones:

From wrong decisions,

To the bad I chose.

Bellows from the bottom.


Placed on a sea of still water

It flows.

From the bottom

Of my murky chalice

Brooding till bubbling over,

There she blows.

A Ship distressed and 

Tattering along:

Not at its best

So Far from Home.

Another Soul seeking 

The Master.

Kingdom throne,

Eden’s green pasture.


To the Eastern Mansion

Kingdom’s Throne,

To the One whose 

Doors are always open

Windows never closed,

No matter where I go

I pray i smoke always 

makes its way

To your nose.




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