Go, if you must
Search for that
You so desperately need to find
But if you return
After having lost yourself
In the charms of the world
Know that what you return to
Is what you love.
Rain As Metaphor For Creativity
Creativity is born
Out of intensity-
A cloud that is dark,
Dense and laden
With the wetness
Of life on earth.
Unable to contain itself
For too long
It expresses all that it has absorbed
And as it falls in abundance
Unmeasured, uncalibrated
It quenches the thirst
Of all longing.
It dissolves all certainty
Through glass
That promised clear vision
You can only see the world
As an abstraction of colour and mist.
Ssshhh… watch silently…
A fashion designer is at work…
That moment that was a vacuum
That could only be filled
With inspiration
Now undergoes transformation
Soon the earth
Will stand fashioned
In a rich green velvet
The body will sparkle
With sequin-like waterdrops
On flowers that smile joyously.
All life will be rejuvenated
And a new romance
Will fill the air…
The rain cloud teaches:
Absorb from life
But abide in vastness
And when the heat gets unbearable
Hide the sun
Take away certainty
Descend on life
And touch it
Show life what it can be.
The Hour
It was the hour
That passed too quickly
A lifetime of happy memories
Were contained and lived.
It was the hour
That was most painful
A lifetime of ache
Was felt and endured.
It was the hour
That moved too slowly
I waited and waited…
It seemed like eternity.
It’s always the hour…
And its fragility and uncertainty
That needs to be handled
With attention and care.
Sometimes a wall
Sometimes a window…
The hour needs to be understood
In order to be freed.
The Question
Of what purpose
A new day…?
What is its lesson?
Must I let go
Of the battles
I heroically began?
Or
Must I stretch them
For credibility?
In what lies the goodness
That I’m trying to learn
From life?
I intuit that the presence
Of a new day
Holds answers
To my questions
That my ignorance
Of who I am, what should I do
And how should I be
Can be transformed
To enlightenment
If silent totality, omnipresence and eternity
Are the answers
What must my question be?
Companionship
Walk with me
At dawn and dusk
So that I may
Have your company
While experiencing
The enchantments of existence-
The sights, the sounds, the smells…the streets.
That company is the best
That allows for
A private enjoyment
Of air and hour
Great company restores you
Time is once again yours
To simply be.
On Its Own Terms
Why is it that
my thoughts don’t
converse with my silence…
They assume it’s a void
that must be filled
with ideas that
seem intelligent.
But silence is a completeness
that deserves the respect
one would accord
to the highest intelligence
Silence must be observed…
It must be met
on its own terms.
Pretence, Purpose and Poetry
The moments that exist
Between those islands of forgetfulness
When you live like you are somebody
With something to do-
Is the ocean of eternity that surrounds you.
You are part of its immensity
But prefer to be more relatable
As a name…an entity…a person
Who will surrender readily to a little love
And the promise of an elusive bliss.
Our pretensions of personality,
Our cultivation of purpose
And the poetic expressions of our angst-
Keep us forever entangled
In the question of, ‘who we essentially are…’
Perhaps that question is pointless
When addressed to an existence that just is
A oneness with no exception.
Your poetry is a monologue…
Who you’re not is speaking with who you are.
Life’s True Calling
Life, that is ever free
Becomes imprisoned within
The walls of the human mind.
Ego, attachment, desire and fear
Do not allow it to move freely…
To come and go-
Without being subject to
Ownership, design, desire…
And moral confusion.
We trap life.
We want it to serve
Our limited sense of self.
But life that is creative and ever new
Will have nothing to do with our staleness.
Itself, free of the past
And open to the future;
Without memory and desire,
It uses time and the illusion of persistence
To create the conditions
By which we come to desire
Our own end.
Can we learn
To meet life with pure presence?
Can we come to see
That the treadmill of the mind
Is not life?
That it has no name,
No designation, no agenda
No attachments, no conditions
That your wish
May be its command,
But not its true calling.
Undisturbed
Do not be intimidated by a blow.
Do not be crippled by doubt.
Do not lose your faith
In the face of obstacles.
Do not hand over
Your courage to fear.
Do not break up with truth
To accommodate a lie.
Do not let opinions
Douse your spark.
Forgoing your essence
Is not a virtue;
It’s a weakness.
Immorality proceeds
From our forgetting
That we are protected by a reality
That stands over and above appearances;
And that stands outside the bounds of
Perception, emotion and intelligence.
Stay intact. Stay whole. Stay undisturbed.
No Leftovers
That which I need most
Is unavailable to me
Not because of someone else’s
Carelessness or lack of love
But ironically,
Because of my own.
Wit. Wisdom. Wonder... 