storms (a collaboration)

Had the opportunity to do another collaboration with the wondrous Nandita (in italics). Always thrilled and humbled to share my words with her.


there was a recklessness

to the blow

of the wind.

a fierceness

to the sway

of the tress.

a harshness

to the pour

of the rain.

a way the night

lived in its own rebellion.


there was serenity albeit

in the darkness of the night

a grace 

to the shying 

of the moon

a wisdom in 

the way the skies burst open

buckled hearts 

to usher in 

a gust of purified breath

to wash away the stains 

from stubborn minds

©Hudson Biko and Nandita Manan Yata. 2018.




the rain falls in

splashes and splatters

to tatters

of trees

and seas

of leaves

fallen in agos

long gone.


and every so often

the forming leaves

glimmering in afternoon dew

catch onto a few

at their tips

and hold on

for as long

as the song

of the birds

will go.

but once.

or twice.

there are one.

or two.

that brush

against the rush

of the fall.

and just stay.


© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Alessio Lin


I Stood There

I stood there

In a patch of dirt


somehow supported

maize stalks


side walks.

Both preceding

hues of green

in the form of tress

That gathered

in patches we call forests


Each fathered

By birds, herds



of bees

floating in a breeze

Broken only  by  the hills.








I stood there


thinking about how this isn’t everywhere


Then stopping

myself because

this was


Breathing in the untouched air

marveling in its tranquility

and its innocence.


I stood there,


in a patch of dirt,

that somehow supported maize stalks and side walks.

© Hudson Biko

via Daily Prompt: Aesthetic