For I’ve seen…
The smiling faces are never the happiest kinds
The crying ones are not always the gravest types
The silent demeanor’s may not always the honest ones
The truthful souls most often are the angry beings
For I’ve seen…
Tag: kindness
Cacophony Of Sounds
Silence fills you
like nothing else
a need, an addiction
a compulsion
Let the seconds,
minutes, hours
be infused with-quietness
draw the blinds of heart
rejoice in tranquility
of poise contractions
stillness of fleeting moments
freeze the much
pervasive solitude
pause the endless cacophony
of incoherent sounds,
of million thoughts.
Let our hearts
become the shrines
of calmness and serenity
those who fear silence
will not go so far.
Alike
Our lives are as different as alike,
Some days you are a step ahead and
I am a step behind while on some days
I am a step ahead and you a step behind.
For our lives are as different as alike.
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.
But I Am Happy
In all my innocence, I thought you will listen gently to
the beats of my heart, I cried and howled as I was
alone and scared I knew we both spoke different
languages but still put my trust because I yearned to
speak and liberate myself from the fear and the million
different voices in my head but you mocked and tried
putting few words of your choice in my mouth and shut
it forever while I suffocated and cried but silently because
you didn’t like the sounds of sobbing I made and now
you claim I am mad because,I only talk to winds and trees
and never seek your company, For the allegations of
lunacy, I’ve been accused so many times and stripped
of any shame and dignity, but I am happy , yes you
heard it right as happy as one can be and that’s my
only vengeance.
An Open Kitchen
The majestic oak trees just shed some woods
the lush baby spinach leaves oozing out of hoods.
In the large pristine green pastures equally growing,
the youthful wild umbrella mushrooms wooing
and with the raw Ramona tomatoes in my sight
I am sure that my stew is going to be really bright.
While preparing stew in a pot it started to slowly rain,
but my mom told me no hard-work ever goes in vain.
The ever benevolent Mother-Earth as my open kitchen
and while stew simmered,the humble deer also pitched in.
Lucky Woman
I am a lucky woman
with rays of Sun on face
the benevolent Earth beneath
drenched in occasional down-pour
few bruises on my heart washed
away by the giggles of a kid
playing hide and seek.
I am a lucky woman.
Grace
Her passing an irreparable loss, I knew
She will be gone before I will stand on my feet
Like a short-lived spring, she flowered and blossomed
And moved on to far lands, behind those tall mountains
Becoming some legend in a fabled, mythical distant land
Her angelic crisscross face echoing tales of a very hard life
Heavenly appearance that illuminated my whole being
The wrinkled shaky arms that embraced my grim childhood
She had already left while I hid behind one dark oak tree
I stood longing for some heavenly grace and sobriety
As I searched through slender caverns and hollow barks
Worn-out I fell into a deep slumber of a prophetic dream
A vision wrapped in bright topaz light floating above huge
Black thundering clouds of rain, “seek me in your heart”
Were the words, I awoke and simply carried on my path.
( This poem is dedicated my beloved grandmother, whose grace touched my life like no other)