Isn’t that the world we dreamt
loving daisies and tulips smiling
few stars to count in the bare open sky of a sleepless night
while the moon peeped and stared at our clumsiness and laughter
and the waves of Adriatic would caress the symphony of our souls in pleasure
Won’t that be the astral world of ecstasy
blissful and non pragmatic
divine and perpetual in nature?
Magical are those moments when we get overwhelmed by certain emotions, ones which are inexplicable. Certainly the ones which render our innermost thoughts on canvas of life in varied colours and forms.
Impermanence is the law of life and change is inevitable.
Sometimes this transition is just another change else it brings lot of mixed emotions stocked inside a jar which get released together. Like a burning incense where the fragrance gets diffused along with delicate fumes in all directions ,so are invisible emotions randomly scattering, within the atoms of the zephyr trying to find out their destination.
They travel collide, run, hide and seek the nucleus of this anxiety,or ecstatic movement. There is no kind of attachment or detachment defined while in this condition. One feels free ,like a free bird flying above the seven seas and the next minute one tends to feel like chained by societal norms and relations.The strings of duties entangle the perching feathers of the bird,pinion it to one pole ,while its claw tries to disentangle the sordid caged condition.It gazes at the vast expanse ,yearns to be embraced by the blueness and drops a tear often to be wiped by its own feathers. During the night , the vanishing stars carry its silent soul to another abode which seems real ,yet far from the reach of its own flight.
When bloomed the palash flowers
Brightening the blue skies of my world
They set the emotions on fire letting those buds
nipped off the branch and smearing the nostalgic ethereal dust
in plentiful measures
Scarlet or saffron ,the deep tinge evoked endless sensations
Which reverberate with the atoms of universe
in a seeking of finding its own abode
Whether at feet of the creator
Or lying unnoticed on ground till shrivels the petal with arrival of different season.
The hanging branches of orchids which yearn to droop
And reach me
How enchanting they appear and soothing while their petals brush against my cheek
Isn’t the path where I step barefooted embrace my feet into its heart deep
While the nostalgic air brings sense of belonging to my traveling soul
Which remains awake for nights before it finally rests to sleep
Doesn’t the echoing bells of a temple nearby thud my core ,whence I vibrate with
my pulse dancing to the cosmic lore
will n’t I be teary eyed when overflows my core with emotions inexplicable and words get lost
in the forest where I travel
they like the new born leaves shy ,sometimes shiver as the dried aged ones do before they die
I know not the change nights long or the sweating day's pain Is it the moon’s peeping game or the wildflower’s fragrance putting Samsara to shame? the flow of time and course alters abruptly and ceaselessly moves sometime letting the scarlet dusk embrace me or often leaving the stars in jealousy while the dewy drops sparkle I await momentous fancies dreaming of being real on the sandy shores when our intertwining fingers and seashells will play. ©Soumya
It is rather uncommon when I post something besides poetry and share it with all of you.
But a dear friend Rachna co authors a book and sends a copy to read,its a wonderful gift and gesture to be acknowledged. So here is something about the book and the authors :
RACHNA ARORA: A Psychologist, author, writer, blogger, poet and provides online professional counselling services to women.
DEEPIKA SHARMA: A post graduate in Journalism and Mass Communication,an author, writer, blogger who feels strongly about the issues that plague married urban women in India.
Like a bohemian she moved to places
A nomad at heart
as a bird in sky
swirling the colourful skirt of aspirations
paints down every town red and and streaks of turquoise
hadn’t the cuckoo perched every branch
hiding from the limelight
beneath the vast azure she vanishes
as a star during daylight
what if the colours create a motif
of a saga in humble words
she runs behind the tall corridors
where sleeps since years a history epical…
do not dissect the words or rhyme
forget to decipher or analyze
her pastels sing
her trinkets dance
and voice charms
faraway the bohemian lives
away from the world in a realm of dreams
moving under thousand suns
While the swindler burnt my cheeks with
its sumptuous golden glow
I changed sides back and forth
for a while I was in shade
hugging memories sheltered the autumn skin
while the seasons played
The silken locks refused to listen
falling like cascade disturbed the rhythm
the song of past struck
few strings in galore
the beats struck the chord
and music echoed.
She cleared the mist with her fingers etching the outline on the glass. The wintry night had left an envelope of thin layered fog on the window pane. She stood there every night after her dinner watching the lone moon hung in the sky. The moon wasn’t visible today and she was wiping the glass to have a glimpse .
The breeze knew the heartbeats of her soul and carried the message of her silent yearnings to faraway land of dreams,where dwelt the twin part of her soul.
Wasn’t it so unworldly, pocketing treasures in the casket of nature and reliving the moments at peace? Nothing mattered as long as the moon was visible to both ends of the world,they lived, breathed and felt the urge to communicate through the dancing waves of morning and night breeze.
How often the nightingales sang and the butterflies danced? Her eyes sparkled and knew the message was through.
Beyond several seas , the orchid had bloomed .