A Godly Descent

Guess, I wanted to be a god in my previous life!
I, a mere mortal fool, with the audacity
to desire an abode and everlasting peace
atop Mount Olympus, Kailash, Fuji, Sinai
or any other name one calls it in their mother’s tongue!

    

In the beginning, like a proper fool, I thought,
I was destined to become the winged god of Love,
until I saw, two things were missing from the scene –
the bow and those little, sweetly poisoned darts, dipped in
the wild passion that proudly runs through his fair mother’s veins!

   

If I must have a bow, I thought, why not the best,
so I set my eyes for Apollo’s golden one;
for the next while or two, it seemed to work – the pen
despite its sheer lack of potency came alive
until the very dream woke me up and muttered, good night!

    

Now I rule the fiery pits of hell, though not as Hades
but a mere mortal one, setting his future bed of nails,
still dreaming of a Prometheus unbound, to bring some light
unto the dark world and succeed where this mortal fool has failed!

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Revival

The Day begins with a throbbing pain in his heart,
last night his better half had run out of the wind
to breathe and sustain the blossoming of his love.
His first few steps are sluggish, hazy and confused,
like a thick foggy morning in late December
and he knows, the sun had set on him forever!

   

Brief autumn was the months of joyful completion,
it came and lingered for a while or two before
fading to the mossy annals of oblivion,
buried alive with no traces left above the ground!

   

Then the sudden onslaught of winter shocked the world,
each day became all frozen to its tender core,
the humble pen stopped bleeding and the blood ceased to flow,
that etched teary sadness and laughter on an empty page.

   

After many a month of such desolate emptiness,
another mighty blizzard came, howling wind blowing hard
but this time though the Day would lose his better half, his blood
would thaw and melt to flow and etch his tears and dreams again!

One Day I’ll Write A Poem

One day I’ll write a poem for sure,
a real poem that will take its readers down the rabbit hole,
to the place with no illusion
as the definition of sanity, set and observed
by an overwhelming majority,
no one knows whether wittingly or not!
    

One day I’ll write a poem for sure,
one whose melody will resonate with the vibration
made by the beating of its readers’ hearts
and in tune too with the frequency of their thoughts!
    

All I have and will have written until that piece,
are my humble tries to compose it,
though failing over and over again.
I hope you are keeping your fingers crossed!

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Yin And Yang

Watch and listen to a reading of the poem by me

As the hour counter starts again at zero hour,
a new day* begins, like a bead on a long string
half colored Yang while the remaining half as Yin.
In a little more than eighty six thousand seconds**
the colors though will transform into a single one –
some days it is Yin but on others it is Yang.
   

Each tomorrow began yesterday with a dream,
that was probabilities going this or that way
but all together making up the final one,
ending in this or that by the end of today!
    

So life becomes an endless string of Yin and Yang,
where each day tends to be just like the previous one,
while once in a blue moon the color shifts and then
the same design starts again until the next change! 

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* A new day can also begin with the sunrise (Oriental) or sunset (Islamic), 
  depending upon the culture. 
** The number of seconds has been rounded down to the nearest thousand.

Mother Teresa ~ a collaboration

This is officially my first collaboration. I am fortunate to be able to do it with Dajena, one of the most imaginative poets I have come across in WP. Take a look at her blog @ MOONSKITTLES for both poetic delights and enlightenment.

 

Your thoughts flower sweetly in our hearts
For flower bud, your name was given to you.
Mother full of devotion, care and grace.
Loving the sick, the broken widow, the poor.

   

A white flower hemmed in blue, a rosebud
born during the dying days of an empire,
amid chaos, upheaval, bloodshed and genocide,
then as a Loreto in Bengal you arrived!

   

Your light shone right away, with kind acts.
Your words inspired, hands healed, smiles rejoiced.
The life you lead, a lighthouse of Holy Scrolls.
Actions of love you gifted to all the broken souls.

   

O mother, O dear mistress of the Holy Son,
your calling came amid the din of partition
to be a servant of the poorest of the poor
and make the destitute leper your kith and kin!

   

But soon a rousing wind began to lash   
its’ tongue against your stance on abortion
and your affinity with the top echelon,
propagated by people, happy in doing naught;
people, who as soon as something is being done
must cry aloud, admonishing its forms and thoughts!
Woe, such bitter tongues did not even spare Yash’wa
but with your heart pledged to him, it was natural!   

   

Your ardor to our Lord, inspires young and old.
Your life led by the light, a crown of our world.
When we feel like we’re just a drop in grand ocean
your words urge to find meaning within. 
Icon of compassion, poor and disadvantaged,
your love crosses borders, defies casts.
Your Albanian roots, you never forgot
nor your mother’s piety and urges to love.

   

Earthly goods meant nothing to you
for your treasure was nothing but God.

  

Throughout life your love for the poor had never ceased to flow,
thus in death too you shine from where the eternal beings glow! 

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*Agnes Gonxhe Bojaxhiu is Mother Theresa’s full name. Gonxhe means a bud of flower in Albanian.