Who I follow in poetry

His name is Mubarakin and what he writes sometimes just grips me.

Is it diamonds and gold
in the rainbow folds
or just the tears of angels?

If hell fire's hot
then is heaven cold,
is there any weather?

Are we standing around
on sacred ground,
do we have any choices?

Do bells peal the news
to the Cathedral pews,
or can it come on voices?

For more of his works he writes at Pan Historia.