Suddenly in the mind, inspiration strikes like lightning, on witnessing lightning! Such is the magic of the monsoons!
It opens up a space in the mind, for the real, for:
It is a beautiful season here in India. Majestic even.
It is the time of the most fecund joy.
And the most amazing sky drama!
The sky drama:
See what I’m talking about?
This weekly photo poem is a shout-out to all storytellers everywhere! Whatever your medium, which ever stage of acceptance/success you’re in, know that you’re in the right space.
Claim your story!
Because despair is an important emotion to work through.
Because finding purpose is important.
Because vulnerability and reality are inextricably intertwined.
Because strength flows most true when you accept all parts of yourself.
What would you do if you had to take The Leap?
That strange alchemy, you and a strip of reflective glass.
What does it say about you?
Are you someone you know, you recognize?
Or are you, a STRANGER?
There’s something about some nights, isn’t it? They seem to be imbued with the gift of revelation, with magic… almost…
What will the night REVEAL to you?
We need to answer this fundamental question. We need to know the answer to ‘WHY?’
It’s been so long since I’ve been here! But I’m back! (Again!)
How are you? What’s been happening? How’s life and blogging treating you?
For you today, I have a Photo Poem! (Thought I’d give it a whirl! :))
And I hope to bring one such poem to you every week.
With poems old and new, profound and ephemeral, let’s see where we go…
So here’s the first one, it’s all about that indescribable thing — the moment:
In the rain
The beguiling fragrance
Of happy trees
Just a walk in the park in the evening—
The chaos in the mind melts away in the cooler breeze,
Summer flowers layer the air with heavy sweetness,
And the streetlight plays a game of golden shadows with the trees.
There are still blessings,
Wherever we may see,
But time, it runs and leaps and bounds away—
We have to do,
We have to dare,
We have to save the Earth!
In 10 years we may not recognize our lands and seas!
What will you do?
Who will notice the light on the flowers,
But for the quiet ones?
Who will think of the green we need,
But for the dreamy ones?
Why then is the world tilted loud?
Why doesn’t love trump fear?
When will the healing come?
There is an edge to hope,
That even when it floats away,
Clings as a shadow of wonder,
To the corners of the spirit.
Let it flower within you today,
Let it rise.
Smile at hope,
And hope will smile upon you…
Who knows what the two of you can do?
Did you know that blood smells of rust?
That our starburst mangled bodies die to awaken?
That in all the liminal space of time—
Truths unfold in ontological puzzlement,
Amazed at their own impertinence?
For what is anything amid infinity?
And where’s the space for infinity in our small is?
The renderings of visions wild,
All these data streams of forever dreams—
Will we ever truly reconfigure?
There is a silent, screaming, streaming smile—
There is a thunderous rapture building—
Just out of reach.
Walk into the whirlwind—
From afar I watch a mansion crumble,
I watch the inconceivable take shape,
And somehow, I am strengthened in my self.
Somehow, I feel the essential taut granite in me,
The one that holds up the truth.
Today I know that if there is to be any hope,
We each have to ascend.
Find our power, flex it,
And go heal this earth of ours.
In the crevasses of our world,
Where we’ve allowed one, maybe two lines of trees,
Birds live out their epic lives,
The orangutan withers.
If I can’t dance,
My world stops a bit.
If I don’t dance,
My universe shrinks a little.
Any stillness achieved is stale.
Dance is primordial joy given form.
Without that joy, what’s meaning?
The IS will flow back.
Flow with vibrant joy.
Reach for bliss…
Glimmering sunlight liquid in the treetops,
A friendly crystal drizzle.
A huge sigh envelops the world…
We steal hummingbird flowers,
For the Gods.
Wings flutter in question…
Flowers bend and sway,
Hummingbirds divebomb the other,
Fat little squirrels chasing each other.
The branch sways,
What is there within me today, that is deep and dark?
Complex chocolate foamy loam,
Worm dwelling, corporate shelling,
Ruined lives buried in glee?
What in me was dark is grey under siege,
In moments of such madness as these,
A poem is a silent angel of futility,
Parading unpretty in the hall of shame…
What is this world of melee?
What is proven if anything of fire?
There is but a chink of gold,
In each pearly sunset mound of flesh.
What is my glory, my honor?
Through words hot and cold,
I fly in incomprehensible circles,
And make my futile art of—
Today I have no words but those arranged before.
Today darkness crawls into the crevasses of me,
Today I wish for a different me,
One not so wounded, one not me!
What right has the light to entice?
What broken vision of perfection it peddles so unashamed?
What utter lie will ‘normal’ next tell?
Your healing, it fails—
Your promises, they fail.
Your bond frays.
Your words are charred wool.
There is no sense left in our electricity.
When you slip into the void,
When you rip open to the dark,
When blood pools in your hollows,
Is it not an inevitable relief?
I wander in waste,
I shout out in haste,
I cry when I could laugh!
And reach out, still I reach out—
The gulf between the sublime and me,
Wavers some days,
Then dances away,
Delighting in just the prospect!
That long leap—
Hangs in the shadows,
Darker than dark,
Lighter than light!
Just the inward smile,
Just the breath-spirit wide,
Just a little crinkle in the heart,
Is all I have to show—
That the heart of the world had called to me one day…
Reach for sublimity with my abstract, sublime book of micro-fiction with the rave reviews: Broken Shadows!
Happy reading! 🙂
Come now, it isn’t so bad!
Didn’t we just decide to emerge?
Didn’t we just say, we would reach — high?
Don’t hide now, don’t fade.
It’s our time to shine.
It’s terrifying, yes; what if you get seen?
But darling, how will you see yourself unless you open up?
None of it matters, none of the hurt.
Just call out to the dawn moon,
Dance in starlight,
Trail a little of the ocean on your palm…
All our ashes will whirlwind in rainbows,
And we will be, what we were meant to be: