Distance of Space or Time

An imaginary wall stands strong

Stronger than the foundation built on

Dividing two souls from an unknown destiny

Changing the very course it flows in

Creepers grow tall and thick on each side

Though the sun shines bright on both sides

Not one attempt is made to shake

And see if the wall may tumble forth

Walk along the forked road they shall

Till the end of the wall or the end of life

Shall rejoin their destiny again

Perhaps one calls out and perhaps the other hears

But too tall is the strong wall and

Too thick the lush green creepers

Nay a glance travels between

Nor a sigh breach its continuum

Only the winds whisper and cry

For oh they see the beauty on either side.

The New World Order.. Utopia of the Thinker..!!

The world whispers and shouts

Men scream and rant

Women being no less than those around

Each pulling the leg of the other

How far can one fall bringing down another

And how much farther more can they be pulled down

The day is spent searching for the shade

While the night goes planning for the heat of the morning

Some say it is a race and some blame the rats

But men and women run, why blame the bloody rats

Next will come the clouds and finally the earth

A new world he wants and a new beginning he seeks

The delusions of the hypocrite

He believes he swims the ocean while all he has

Is managed to fall from one pond to the next

Algae sticking on and polluting the waters anew

A changed world order is up for grabs

If only there be one to snatch it out of the

Murky depths of prejudice it presently floats in

And again the men and women cry

Oh for the fairness of it all

Those who cannot grab onto the floating logs

Drown in the currents of minds dragging them

The ocean bed beckons to those who went

In search of a mystical ship

One to truly carry the tired to new waters

For an Unborn Child

The smile shone through her eyes

As she played with her little sand castle

Bright morning light flowing through

Those golden strands of her hair

Never before had my eyes beheld

A sight more beautiful of earthly delight

As she turned to look towards me

A ray of love pierced my heart

Her innocence and purity filtering

Through my very essence

Washing away the dirt and corruption

That had seeped through my soul

All my struggles to find meaning

To find a path to walk on

They all culminated in this beautiful moment

Each day spent crying over lost love

Each night nursing a broken heart

Your love was the balm to heal my soul

To guide me to a better myself

To bring revelation

Into my thirsty eyes

For you lay down I shall

All my life and hopes.

Finding a new path

I often wonder how many people out there realise the love of working with a child. It is not so much you give to the child, as much as the child gives to you. In this world of cynicism and bitter despair, the fresh innocence of a child is like a breath of pure,unfiltered air. Each moment spent with them, is like living from the scratch, shedding the burdens of days gone by effortlessly, if only temporarily. When they trustingly let you guide them where you please and never once falter with doubts, you are reminded again of how fragile their tiny minds and bug hearts are.

Do they deserve to be labelled into religions or regions? Do they deserve to be treated as Zionists or a Part of the Reich? Is the political ambition of the grown up imbecile to reflect upon their gentleness?

All each child ever wants is a strawberry ice cream or a bright shiny toy. It is we who put the first missile loader in their hands or strap the first and last bomb on their waists. We are to blame for the dimness in their eyes and the inability to believe in unicorns or phoenixes.

How can a  world be safe, when the children themselves aren't? We are willing to stoop to the level of defiling a crying baby by burning a cross across their forehead or whispering words of a holy Scripture in their ears. We forget the skin we touch is more pure than any holy water and the thoughts more innocent than any thought in centuries gone behind.

We become so eager to ensure they follow the path of righteousness, we forget that the right path has long since disappeared.


Let them be, oh wise man of yore. Allow them to tread barefoot. Perhaps a new path they shall find, to eventually lead us to our own redemption.

The Conundrum of Freedom

The Delusions of Many Illusions

"It was I," said the prisoner, "who forged this chain very carefully. I thought my invincible power would hold the world captive leaving me in a freedom undisturbed. Thus, night and day I worked at the chain with huge fires and cruel hard strokes. When at last the work was done and the links were complete and unbreakable, I found that it held me in its grip."

The Whirling Dervish in the Starry Starry Night

Feeling Blue one bright sunny day

Significance

O accursed stillness of the night sky
O twinkling stars in the vast ocean
Why with each moment do you
Make me realise my immense insignificance
When all I hope is to escape into
Is a remote, cold emptiness
Where the only importance lies
In my survival and hence my significance...

The Bitter Reality

If only reality would sink 
Into the dark abyss of illusions
Where the wind of false promises
Lifted the soul to peaks of delusions
Instead of the whispers
Blowing stark truths of sorrow
To shatter the glass encased heart
Beating for a love that never comes.

Written in the depths of Sorrow. Perhaps what Lekha said is true and I really have never allowed the sky to darken enough. I just seem to rise up to fight after each knock. The wise would lead us to believe that this is the right way to live but I wonder what makes the Wise so? Am I really winning the game by getting up or just falling deeper into a trap layed out for me? One thing that I do definitely know is that Sorrow truly inspires creativity like happiness never can.

Apparently attempting Wordsworth

Winter Through your eyes

When the horizon stretched out yonder
When only peace prevails In each atom of yours
Only a silent chirp is all that nature dares
With just a few drops falling from above
As your gaze rests on barren cliffs
And the winds caress the desolate land
At that point in time when
Even the sigh of untold love seems real
Come hold my hand and walk with me 
Each moment here I want to see
Through my unseeing eyes, I dream
Of what your eyes and soul can see.

The Ones Left Behind

The ones left behind...!!!

We each have our own sorrows

Our own burdens we carry

Come to this world though free

We leave behind a deep void

Some tearful eyes bid farewell

Some glad to see the light dim

Eyes holding us back, pleading

Eyes unforgiving and unrelenting

As the fading world bids goodbye

A fleeting moment does pass

Do we leave behind more saddened brows

Or bid adieu pure as the day

The first light that shone in our eyes

And the first smile that brightened our presence

How do you want to go

Softly washed away from the Shore

Or gently blown away a whisper

Whether the sea or the blowing wind taketh us

Go we shall all one day

Fading away into a nothingness

Having put down all the burdens of sorrow.

Probably written with Lekha in my mind. Change was not something I welcomed well. She is a bittersweet enemy of mine whom I can't live without but don't like much either. Sometimes life throws a curve ball and how we react to it seals our fate. With the recent developments, I often catch myself wondering as to if I am the Stone being eroded by the river of Life and not really the floating log I had believed myself to be. 

One thing is for sure, though. This does seem to be a good exercise and shall be pursued every single day.