She…….

She is all this,
And she is more

The forest,
That lays bare beneath her feet;
With dense undergrowth
And the clear patch.

She has been the wild creeper
And the nonchalant drooping bough.

The clear path
And the uneven pebbled road.

She has been this forest
Sometimes unyielding,
Sometimes….
Untold.

Do we?

Did the Sun get to know?

When the Sunflower turned away

Even when

It continued to brighten up

Every alley, every day……..

 

Did the wind get to know,

When the resilient tree stood still

Even when

It blew mighty strong

Through every forest, every hill…….

 

Did the rain get to know,

How a sparrow was undrenched

Even when

It showered so profund

That every heart was flooded……

 

Do we,

In all the love we spread…….

Ever ponder,

On what was left undone

Which could have,

Blossomed, drenched or swayed

A thirsty soul yonder……..

It cannot be fathomed,

Through words and smiles….

Just how much love

Under the mask belies……

 

The dense dense forest

Does not reclaim

The sky’s vast 

and endless fame…..

 

The tiny tiny bird

That spreads its wings

Does not proclaim

The sky as its dwelling……

 

Sometimes the love

We hold inside;

Is for that sky

Which we, like birds

Cannot decide,

If it can be our cosy little nest

Or do we

Like dense forests ,

Do not let its pieces

Fall inside………..

You….

If you have

The light

That gleams in your eyes

And blinds the Sun

And the amorous moon sighs……..

 

If you can

run the race

And leave……

Leave all gasping

To have a piece of your mind…….

 

Every inch

Of you

Is divine

It truly does not matter

Less or more…..

Every bit of you does shine.

Denial…..

And there he stood,

arched, at the doorway

Wondering whether to enter,

Or to leave

Unobserved……

 

He has thrived

On her smile,

That has nourished

Him deep within,

Taken him…….

Beyond eternity.

 

So he is stranded

Where he is,

Her effervesence

In his soul……..

Entrapped in her loveliness……

 

Night befalls soon

and so he must

Decide soon…..

To stay, or to leave

Or to get stranded

Midway…..

 

His feet are stuck;

Stay he must,

Like every other day,

Spent in anticipating……

Her denial……

The sky or the mist…..

 

And does her world end

Or does it begin here?

How is she to discern,

If it is the sky

Or the mist

She hides within the urn……

 

So she walks on-

Careful, not to stumble.

 

But this time she is sure

That she full well knows her way through

The deepest of the jungle,

Through every single lure…….

 

Voices, loud and clear

Music from distant shores.

A something stops in the track,

Holds her eye……

Till she turns away-

There are tracks galore……..

 

 

And is this the start,

Where all else ends?

And is this the threshold,

Where angels meet fiends?

 

She questions rapidly…..

And continues her charms-

On all that is denied,

To her tiny palms

 

Maybe this cloud ;

Is the one, she can

Mount and ride.

 

Maybe this dewdrop;

She can touch

And bathe awhile.

 

Maybe this time;

The moon,

Would let her

Be the shine….

 

Maybe, maybe…..

This one time she could be

The finest morning light…….

Chants……

lightning-962789_960_720No, the world has not settled as yet,

It chants like a feverish drum……

Beats that unnerve;

And waves that lash,

With a resonating hum…..

 

We drifted away,

From islands and ports,

To drown into the seagull’s cry;

To leave behind the din

Locked away in forts………

 

A world of ceaseless banter,

Incessant and prevailing

Upon our very senses……

Dumbfounding and extravagant……

So we sail away…..

All the noise trailing…..

 

But the world has not settled yet

The endless chant remains……