The healer

 Once the storms are over, 

the motherly ray comes down 

to kiss and heal!!

A leadless tree

 

The winter has'n brutal and harsh,

And my struggle turned almost a farce,

Lost all my leaves,

With loss my soul grieves,

Still not all is lost,

For greenish life finds a host

in the wheat at my feet,

They pay a respectable greet,

My loss and my pain

doesn't go in vain,

Tumbled down as my leaf

with pain and grief,

Blossom thousands around,

Wheatlings like daughters doth surround,

Fell where my tear,

Many a smile this earth doth bear,

Doesn't go waste my pain,

Sows it the prospects of gain,

If not for me,

Definitely for thee!

The defeated man

 

There stands the defeated man,

Lines of worry etched on his face,

Blizzards pelting the petals

of the flower of his fate,

The sun setting in the eyes,

The light fading out

and the night settling

as dark circles under the eyes,

Almost ground into dust by destiny,

Tension unspooling in his gut,

The ravenous flames of nightmares

chasing him even during the sunlit day.

 

In the pit of dark,  

all he needed was her sympathy,

but never pity,

And this still surviving

streak of confidence and self-worth

seemed arrogance to her,

It opened a chasm between them,

which won’t be closed by

pity or angry words

or even attempts at fake lovemaking.

Romancing with freedom

 

Don’t make yourself small

by chasing the shadows

that were never yours,

If the shadows are all that

you can chase,

let these by your own

instead of blindly following others’

for petty gains and conveniences,

Because in chasing your own shadows,

you are still near the axis of your being

and open to redemption one fine day.

 

It’s advisable to carry the hefty weight

of your own dead dreams

instead of floating in the

webs of others’ dreams and desires,

Crawl on the ground

o thou dung beetle

instead of flying like a glowworm

in the darkness of others’ hearts.

The empty canvas

 

Your absence

is like a vast presence;

like the sky,

Pervading and high,--

the endless canvas of one

overarching attachment

in which minor attachments,

desires and little heartbreaks

drift like tiny clouds,

The floating signs

of all lesser attachments,

They spring up,

float and drift away,

As if these are your offspings,

You the queen attachment,

The vast sky;

the great emptiness

that remains despite all attempts

to fill it with multiple rainbows.

The crippled

 

We have broken limbs

in our soul,

We are always looking

for a cast and sling

in the form of

special people in life,--

family, friends, lovers,

The cushion support,

The eternal need for soft bonds

to deal with stony realities.

Rebuilding and reconstruction

 

It’s only about putting stitches

on the gaping wound,

rebuilding the broken walls;

hiding the tears behind a smile;

and trying to convince oneself

that all is well,

And keep believing in hope and life

despite the creeping shadows of

death, disorder, pain and suffering.