In passing time
Observe an occurrence:
A curve…a refraction…
A twist…an aberration…
A connection…a concealment…
Stretch its dimensions
Towards the observer.
Perceive it in pure light
Without an ambience of knowledge.
Learn about it
By learning from it.
Trust it to take you
Where it must now live…
In the form of a new thing;
In the marketplace;
As an idea;
As a suggestion;
As a question;
As a voice
Or, as pure courage.
How marvellous is poetry
Where words with
Definitive meanings
Begin to explore a world
Beyond them.
Words can rise in wonder
They can descend in love.
They can enter abandoned heart spaces
And breathe life
Into feelings that were left to die.
Words can be more
Than just units of meaning…
They are also the pigments
That give color and visibility
To an existence beyond the one you’re living.
Poetry is an educator
Whose lessons get richer
With the accumulation
Of experience and memory.
They become your constitution.
Over time
Poetry that you lived with
Becomes a fragrance
That emanates from you.
Words are no longer needed.
The moment is bare.
My questions stand as a reflection.
My answers are unsure of themselves
And refract in search of other possibilities…
Past impressions collide with present gatherings…
The pen awaits its first recollection.
I am deeply conscious of my own emptiness
Or readiness…?
I’m waiting
For an arrival…
My ability to wait
Is my only claim
To an inherent creativity.
To decide
Is to commence
A journey of self-actualisation.
It is to lay the very path
That you and countless others
Will eventually come to walk on.
It is to take responsibility
For yourself and for those
Who depend on your care.
To decide
Is an act of faith.
It is prayer in action.
It is to be ready
To put in the heart and sweat
To make the new work.
A decision
May be a tough choice
Resulting in heartbreak and sorrow.
But in the final analysis
A decision is a poetic promise
That you must make to honour your life.
Money as a means
Is a blessing;
As an end in itself
It’s a curse.
As a means it provides
As an end it appropriates
As a means it exchanges value
As an end it robs value.
Money is an energy
That supports the business of living.
But it’s not the objective of life.
Ask yourself:
What’s the price you paid
To earn your money?
Can it redeem for you
All that you lost in its pursuit?
Can it sustain its worth
Or does it lose it over time?
Are you making money for money’s sake
By passing off a lesser value in exchange?
Have you normalised
An economic mindset
That sees nothing wrong
In profiting out of thievery?
What if we resolved
To spend more thoughtfully
Seeking value rather than a steal?
What if money could
Be made more true?
Not as wealth in itself
But as a supporter and promoter
Of the wealth already in you.
Play an active role
In your own life:
Make tough choices.
Create joy.
Give love.
Provide space.
Bring intelligence.
Leverage opportunities.
Earn respect.
Work for a cause.
Acquire experiences.
Develop capability.
Dream and then recreate the dream.
Inspire and influence.
Leave. Know when you’re not needed.
Accept your fate with faith.
Rest. Redeem yourself.
A crisis threatens you
With loss…
A loss of meaning and purpose;
Or with a loss of resources
And reserves.
A crisis reminds you
That life comes with no guarantees
That to live means to incur debt
That must be repaid
To all that sustains, nourishes and protects you.
A crisis teaches you
To live with deference
To wait and to be grateful
To effectively transact the business of life
By refusing to bank on it.
A crisis inaugurates
Your liberation
From the smallness of certainties
To a realm of possibility
A crisis is a time to live consciously.
A crisis conveys you
From the narrow alleys of fear
To the vast open skies of promise
You renew your relationship
With trust and faith.
A crisis is integral
To the design of humanity.
It reminds us that to simply be
One need not be accomplished
Just alive and inspired.
To educate is to open up
The expanse of the mind
So that for all our assumptions
The right questions we may find.
An education must make you
A seeker not a knower
You must be able to
Over your ignorance cross over.
Pride and foolishness
Often walk hand-in-hand
A true seeker knows
The grounds on which he stands.
That we know nothing
A good education must show
That what needs to be known
Lies beyond what we know.
Not just a fast-track
To worldly success
In the worst of times
It prepares you to be your best.
Education is design
Education is art
It’s the architecture of the mind
Built with inroads to the heart
Examine deeply
Your notions of the true.
The froth of the ocean
Is as true as its depth.
Ranking and evaluating and judging
Are intellectual pastimes.
They may or may not
Yield you the wisdom to see.
That when you organize things
From the truest to the less true
The world stands disintegrated
And broken in two.
A true seeing of the true
Will harmonize differences
And create parities
Where none seem to be.
The true may sometimes
Seem false, often inconsistent
And in disagreement with your view
On how things should be
But ultimately the true
Keeps its own promise to be;
Answerable to no one, it remains
In perfect sync with its own potentiality.
To see beauty
Is to awaken
To all that is.
Beauty is not
A matter of judgement
But of absorption.
After all,
You cannot seize something
That grips you.
In the presence of beauty
The mind is silenced;
At her altar, all the senses kneel.
You stand there-
Feeling privileged,
Feeling blessed.
She won’t be spoken to;
There’s nothing
That you can say to her.
Silence becomes
The expression of your awe
And wonder.
Your words
Can’t describe her
For she is pure essence.
Not this, not that
Not this way
Not that way.
She can’t be drawn
Or designed
Or sculpted.
You can find her
Only when
You are immersed in her.
Wit. Wisdom. Wonder... 