Being true to one's intrinsic nature is no weakness. If you happen to be a person dominated by feelings, don't underestimate your heart. Feelings have longer roots to one's real self. Thoughts are utilitarian ripples on the egoistic surface. They have their utility though. Mind is just a faculty that has the potential to create something out of life. But still it's a utility, a skill. Heart is what we are. Controlling mind breeds a healthy outer life, which surely supports peace and joy inside. Nurturing heart gives us a joyful inner life. Mind is predominantly a trigger mechanism operating basically on our fears. It's merely a tool to survive, but not us. Go guys go...have a pleasant joyride with your feelings...and use mind for survival in the the forest that life is...best wishes💐👍🏻🙏🏻
Without poetic seed there won't be prose. The entire network of branches, twigs, flowers, fruits and leaves is nothing but a commentary on the small poetic seed. So all ye wannabe writers, nurture the poet in you, who understands the value of pause in life, who moves slowly to watch everything, sight and smell everything. Brushstrokes of poetry softly touch the soul without disrupting its restful muse and bring out nuggets of love, compassion, harmony and peace. All content © Sandeep Dahiya
Monday, March 18, 2024
Saturday, March 16, 2024
Spring
Flowers are abloom
in springy riotous passion.
Snow melting on the peaks
and the valleys abuzz with
fresh leaves and regenerated dreams.
Colorful birds spraying chirpy notes around.
Come fella come!
Come out of dispassion and cavernous glum!
in springy riotous passion.
Snow melting on the peaks
and the valleys abuzz with
fresh leaves and regenerated dreams.
Colorful birds spraying chirpy notes around.
Come fella come!
Come out of dispassion and cavernous glum!
Wednesday, February 21, 2024
Dance
O thou beautiful woman,
your charmingly feminine undulations
make me feel
the pulsation of life in my being.
Yes, undulations are a lovely part of
the feminine polarity,
It keeps that vibration
that soft rhythm
that lovely push
which defines life and living,
If not for this,
everything will be just passive
like a stone.
Your ripples across the
froze clods in my heart
bring it back to
even more sensitivities of life.
Thanks for being present in my being,
Feel my presence in you,
For a shared dance--
a dance the way you want it.
your charmingly feminine undulations
make me feel
the pulsation of life in my being.
Yes, undulations are a lovely part of
the feminine polarity,
It keeps that vibration
that soft rhythm
that lovely push
which defines life and living,
If not for this,
everything will be just passive
like a stone.
Your ripples across the
froze clods in my heart
bring it back to
even more sensitivities of life.
Thanks for being present in my being,
Feel my presence in you,
For a shared dance--
a dance the way you want it.
An innocent desire
Yours is a lovely soft heart,
Just looking for affection
and a caring touch.
That's the least
Just looking for affection
and a caring touch.
That's the least
a heart can desire,
I respect its innocent need
and try my best to
touch your life
as best as it's possible for me,
Of course, mine seeks the same
and you do the same for me.
A touch of desire and mischief
My heart's sandy beach
always awaits thy tidal reach
to bring it back to life;
always awaits thy tidal reach
to bring it back to life;
to feel thy pleasant strife,
The lifeless grains of sand
dance with joy as you land
upon my beached self,
You, caress, shove, swipe
and cuddling full and ripe,
You rearrange the boring design,
You carry the experience
of the seas far away
with its countless wavy sway
and jostle, heave your breast
lifefully on my chest,
Seeks your fickle self some rest,
A sea of possibilities your your breast,
You bring a noise
that sees through the sandy silence,
You kiss the grains of my being
with your salty, effervescent lips,
You sway
and make hay,
massaging me with your fluidity
and stormy charms,
Then you slip out of my pining arms,
heartlessly recede and go away
far into the depths of the sea,
And I look alone and forlorn,
waiting for your return
to bring me again back to life.
Saturday, February 10, 2024
The Night
Lipstick on Her dark face,
arriving like a sweet seductress
to embrace us all for rest, repose and sleep,
For many promises to keep,
Welcome o thou lovely Night!
Help me in my very own fight!
arriving like a sweet seductress
to embrace us all for rest, repose and sleep,
For many promises to keep,
Welcome o thou lovely Night!
Help me in my very own fight!
Tuesday, January 16, 2024
The shape of my love
My love is like water,
It'll change, adapt, reshape
and lovingly drape
around thy teasing feminine shifts
and sometimes testing drifts
and still more enchanting, innocent trips
of your lovely, deep heart,
Filling it with light would be an art.
My love is like a river
and won't shiver
on coming across
the stones of your pain
scattered on your path,
It'll gently curve around
and caress, hug and surround
with its embracing fluidity.
It's dancing and in flow,
Carrying its joyous glow,
It knows one's heart is not a fixed cast,
Rather it's a panorama vast,
Where highs and lows give blast,
The heart is reshaping and reborn ever,
But my love pure though is yet clever
to go into the chambers where you need
a nourishing emotional feed.
It doesn't expect a smooth ride,
It feels your heaving tide,
But it'd enjoy a walk by your side,
It would be lovely to flop,
rise and drop
along crests and troughs of your waves,
This up and down it craves.
It'll flow like air
across your hair,
It'll be always eager to touch
with excitement much
all the colors and layers of your being.
It's enough and full
and always there with its pull,
It wants you to rise,
be free and touch all highs.
Why is it so happy to be such?
Ecstatic and joyous much,
Because now it can dance
as if in a holy trance,
It can see itself through you,
A glinting fresh drop of dew
on your petalous smile.
Saturday, January 13, 2024
Cosmic dance... fluidity
Here, the last remains of the day;
There, a new day's first ray.
It's never about beginning or end.
Just a handover,
a mere transition,
a process,
a continuity.
There, a new day's first ray.
It's never about beginning or end.
Just a handover,
a mere transition,
a process,
a continuity.
Thursday, November 9, 2023
Being in the womb of non-being
Aha that solitude's brace
with full grace
on one's hassled self!
with full grace
on one's hassled self!
The fragrance of silence
away from the mind's violence,
Smell it,
Enjoy to the last bit,
But never forget
the scent of humanity,
It has its own beauty,
The sweet-sour smell of attrition
of life against testing odds,
Of pleasure, pain, sighs, moan,
The soft brace of a flower
and the divine shower
of smiles and tears
also bears
the stamp of the unwritten laws,
Nothing'd exist without humane flaws,
The heavenly bliss
and peaceful kiss
prevailing in the vales
won't have any meaning without
the strife and humanity's travails,
Silent whispers in a forest
and the noisy outpours in a bazaar
share deep roots,
Life is impregnated in deep chambers
of silence and solitude
and the mystical beatitude
somewhere far away,
It's then let loose
to seek a higher meaning
in the congested, overbrimming,
cacophonic, struggling bazaar,
Life comes out of a deep cave
to brave
all that blood, sweat, smile,
tears, love, guile
and hate
that berate
we humans,
We have to pass the test
and be our best
in the crowd
and then wear the shroud
of the eternal sleep
as undisturbed silence motherly creep
to take us deep
again into the silent womb.
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