Love, Nature, poetry

Lone Vessel

Sailing smoothly on 
Cerulean velvety waters 
Crimson sun coming out
Of thick cloudy curtains 
Shining bright, blessing; 
The voyage embarked on
A pilgrimage to the east
Joyful dolphins calfs 
Trailing along, in hope
Of meeting gods of the east
Golden vessel gliding softly
Caressing tender ripples of
Meandering  voluptuous waves
Bowing down in front of 
the formidable force of nature 
Lone cruise resolute but gentle 
Floats in the lap of the azure crystalline sea 
Melodious ruffling lingers in the air  
A prophetic song of  courageous 
Sailors lost  on  the same course
A surreal dream of great doom
Hovers around the silver mast. 

Silence
Love, Nature, poetry, Spirtual

Shooting Star

The day  I pass on and become a shooting-

star, disintegrat into million 

dazzling particles

 

Think of me an anonymous vision 

who came and went on

 

A mundane dream who lived well and 

relished all the bounties 

 

An unveiled phantom who roamed the

narrow aching streets as the

northern lights,

 

A faint glimmer who flickered when 

the winds were harsh and the 

tempests raging

 

At twilight when withered wax had 

deliquesced, I a  common vision

simply melt down ..

 

 

 

 

 

bagpipers
feminine, Love, Nature, poetry, woman

Swaying To Notes of Thousand

Swaying to the 

notes of thousand 

bagpipers…

dropping all shames

twirling round round,

like darvesh in 

wild wild forest.

Whatever happens 

will happen!

It’s all god’s will

why interfere

why despair?

Some days are bad

like today,

I am rollin rollin

going spiral down 

free falling..

Thought to bounce

swaying just pounce

dropping shames…

Whatever happens

will happen.

It’s all God’s will

why interfere?

why despair? 

All I can do

is to just brew

drink or flew

some champagne

bubbles …

You can hold

my hands behold

catch me when I am

free-falling..

kiss me or

miss me…

When swaying

with me swaying

to the notes of

thousand bagpipers

Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature

Refuge

I took refuge in myself as a

hermit in an ancient cage,

enduring the thunders and 

the howls of angry wolves

in my brain, as the centers

would not hold, no one ever

cared for my broken words

so I started to scribble long

verses on my aching heart

while taking refuge in my

my withered soul caged by

the barrage of human folly. 

wild flowers
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Literature, Love, Nature

I Am A Wildflower

I may not be the exquisite rose of your French orchids,

or the fragrant Jasmine of your manicured lawns.

A wildflower of some unknown species, yes I am of a wild tribe!

The type that grows on the sides of your very dirty roads and

muddy paths, the kind whose seeds are never sowed

and fruits shall never be reaped.

 

Do you know that in my womb, I too carry a fragrance?

A pungent smell which never made it to the bottle of any perfume.

No lover ever came knocking on my humble door. No never!                      

Such abhorrent is my appearance that my beauty is never a joy to any.

My petals are never given a chance to kneel at the altar of any shrine,

for the pundits prophesied, it would have been blasphemy of some kind!

 

But I continued to sway when the cold winds would blow and

bloom whenever the benevolent Sun would shine.

I flourished, even when the florists at my site continued to whine

I thrived when the rains were scarce at an hour when suddenly the eclipse

took over all the Suns, and the Moon simply refused to show up.

 

So you ask me why?  For I possess a zeal, a yearning to live, so strong that even

when I am trampled on your dirty roads, I never cease to grow….

and continue to grow and like a phoenix rise from the ashes.

I am a wildflower, the kind that grows on the sides of muddy paths.

feminine, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry, sensual, Spirtual, woman

Final Liberation

The exquisite hope diamond ring that was

tightly wrapped around my shaking finger,

is it enough to keep me chained or do you

think I stayed for a few golden jewels?

You can very well tie me with the,shackles

of your heart’s desire and lock my yearnings

in an embellished magical lamp and seal it

with an Indian pearl. But are the ruby and

topaz strings strong enough to tie my soul to

some wooden vows? Has any sorcerer ever

been able to trap a soul? My soul has been

emancipated long before you were born it 

flew across many deserts, crossed many

channels and soared much above the azure

skies. And for my wild heart, you can scribble

many criss-cross lines with a marker of your

desire.Could any illusionist ever conjure up 

the strength to tame a heart? The profanities

that you hurl at me are no longer the cause

of my woes. I no longer feel humiliated

when you mock at me with a grin on your

handsome face or call me a whore or an

unstable lot. Much before you since centuries

men have called me different names and

temples and shrines haves offered me

several offers of redemption and even tried

to chastise me in the holy waters of sacred

rivers. But while pundits and priests were

performing fire rituals for the purification of

my sinful flesh my soul was busy consummating

with the hollow winds and erect trees on the

moonless nights. My spirit paid ablutions

and offered few locks of raven hair as a

sacrifice to the  Goddess of Earth, Gaia and

my soul just soared higher and higher

after being blessed with the final liberation. 

feminine, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Love, Nature, poetry, Self-Help, sensual, Spirtual, woman

Old Oak Tree

From my heart extends  the dark

dry branches, trying to ooze their thin

heads out, longing to embrace the

old oak tree standing alone.

Patiently waiting for the winds of

autumn to strip him naked, before

he goes for a long hibernation in the

silvery snow flakes. The branches of

my heart eager to  coil around his

withered ancient moldy bark

The many grim moonless

nights, when I would lay in his hollow

lap as he stretched his wrinkled branches

to run across my tangled hair to adorn

it with saplings of leaves and embrace

me tight in its gigantic roots, showering

me with his many benevolences, purifying

my soul of sins of generations with

a delicate touch of chastity on my bosoms

For I love him with all my heart, I just love him!

And  he always loves me back.

Numerous silent tears that I shed as it held,

me high on its shaky branches,

Branches like a silver beard of an old

prophet, his yellowish green leaves

 whirl like a Sufi-Darvesh on the

Melody of golden flute of hollow winds.

A final good-bye to him before he

 is exiled to the remote lands of winter.

A final  cry till we meet again

he with his younger leaves and I with an

older heart but one day I know I’ll

merge in his roots forever, till then

I’ll pray in the shrine of my tears and

wait for his safe return. 

Tanya Shukla