In silence..with mometary quietus ..
Contemplate , ponder , discuss
In a single leap of thought..I traverse..
with a single line of poetry ..lands of emotions diverse.
The narrow boundary between love and hate..
The subtle distinction between overflow and satiate..
The slightly skewed self-communication..
A soliloquy ....a "me" in conversation
to pause at every crumple ...to further crease the memory,
every smile or tear captured...to compile the final story..
to smoothen out certain folds..that disturb the process of thought..
to fill in emotions where nothing remains..to calm a thirsty drought..
to arrange..to organise..all in the unwritten chronicles of the mind..
to gather some newer parts of self...to leave some old ones ...behind..
to mourn at what broke..my crystal vase of hope and light..
to remember its delicacy..and my foolish childish delight..
to let some colors in....from the pack of my childhood things
to set free some imagination...borrowed from the gift of wings ..
to hear the echo of laughter old ..
to remember secrets never shared or told..
to smile and cry together...to thus entertain confusion..
to hurriedly edit inundated sentiments...to clear the blurred vision
to rationalize..to sympathise..with idealism wounded and hurt ,
to learn to be accepting....of that occasional speck of dirt..
the half-hearted oscillations about where reality lives,
superimposed upon the creatively crafted ...the perceptions she forcefully gives..
to still learn to preserve and gradually own...
in the guise of circumstance...weeds of thoughts that have grown..
to recollect some..to still feel the anguish
to succumb to the darkness that gnaws..to then fail to distinguish..
to search for pure oblivion....forgetfulness as a defence..
to end the interaction in haste..to welcome a blissful ignorance
This occasional glimpse into those hidden thoughts...
which I not everyday unlock and see...
a little step of my eternal journey with myself...
of someday...discovering "me"...
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
TO BE BORN A RIVER ..
The Ganges at sunset looks very beautiful..the rays of the setting sun create an orangish luminescence on her surface....
How would it be to be born a river..and witness this each day...
To be born a river, to wander for destinations,
To just be pure water , oblivious of stern definitions.
Pristine in form , bathed in sunlight,
the calm sheath unaware of the shimmering orange bright,
To carve a path , to leave a mark
colorless in my hands, black at dark.
To witness sunset and sunrise across her vast expanse,
The graceful meandering poses to humble and entrance,
To dwell with the starry skies at night,
To weave dreams of the silvery moonlight,
To be dressed in the silk of an exquisite elegance,
To roar in agony and then the powerless pretence,
To share aquaintance with the bird that flew,
To hum the song of the winter wind that blew.
To dictate the banks, to know their spread,
To lead with wisdom and yet still be led.
To know the boats that glide so swift,
to feel the pulse of the silent currents that drift.
by night, by day,
a constant momentum invited forever to stay.
to have no beginning, to have no end
to discover the pleasure of acknowledging each bend,
to hold in sacred trust , the deep secrets of the land,
to satiate, to nurture, the parched dry sand.
water upon water, thus to feel rain ,
one with itself, the sprinkled easing of pain.
Translucent watery eyes, with floating ,changing dreams,
they own none, just mirrors to the cast themes.
She has a story she never tells,
she shapes a rock but never dwells.
The detached attachment of a wanderer true,
She speaks to heaven's across the blue
She charts her own course , free to flow,
But only of the ocean she must know.
To merge and still contain,
To give up and still refrain.
to own an identity beyond what engulfs her whole,
to exist an existence she casually from the mountains stole,
to mystify with her raw sanctity,
childish anger, sacred divinity
to hold many names , to still elude description
to just tame water and yet kindle imagination.
an enormity beyond what my perception can deliver,
I smile at the evening thought ..."to be born a river" ..
How would it be to be born a river..and witness this each day...
To be born a river, to wander for destinations,
To just be pure water , oblivious of stern definitions.
Pristine in form , bathed in sunlight,
the calm sheath unaware of the shimmering orange bright,
To carve a path , to leave a mark
colorless in my hands, black at dark.
To witness sunset and sunrise across her vast expanse,
The graceful meandering poses to humble and entrance,
To dwell with the starry skies at night,
To weave dreams of the silvery moonlight,
To be dressed in the silk of an exquisite elegance,
To roar in agony and then the powerless pretence,
To share aquaintance with the bird that flew,
To hum the song of the winter wind that blew.
To dictate the banks, to know their spread,
To lead with wisdom and yet still be led.
To know the boats that glide so swift,
to feel the pulse of the silent currents that drift.
by night, by day,
a constant momentum invited forever to stay.
to have no beginning, to have no end
to discover the pleasure of acknowledging each bend,
to hold in sacred trust , the deep secrets of the land,
to satiate, to nurture, the parched dry sand.
water upon water, thus to feel rain ,
one with itself, the sprinkled easing of pain.
Translucent watery eyes, with floating ,changing dreams,
they own none, just mirrors to the cast themes.
She has a story she never tells,
she shapes a rock but never dwells.
The detached attachment of a wanderer true,
She speaks to heaven's across the blue
She charts her own course , free to flow,
But only of the ocean she must know.
To merge and still contain,
To give up and still refrain.
to own an identity beyond what engulfs her whole,
to exist an existence she casually from the mountains stole,
to mystify with her raw sanctity,
childish anger, sacred divinity
to hold many names , to still elude description
to just tame water and yet kindle imagination.
an enormity beyond what my perception can deliver,
I smile at the evening thought ..."to be born a river" ..
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