The juice of life

Dry branches just fretfully shake and bow

to the wind's playful shove,

Leafy green branches gyrate and sway

even to the pulls of stormy winds.

The juice of life.

It's playful,

mischievous,

swaying.

Her query

She asked me,
How thou be? 
And I had to flash a smile 
and hide the pain's guile,
Then I reply,
I'm fine,
Drunk with life's liberating wine,
Enjoying the summer's shine.

My own love

My very own is my love,
It has nothing to do
with yours my dove,
And now when I realize this,

there is a gentle surge of bliss,

I own, accept and embrace

the soft brace

of my own love,

and welcome it,

without a bit

of expectations from the interest of my love,

my determined dove.

The beauty of a new day,

a fresh ray

makes me forget my pain

beyond expectations and gain

and makes me smile,

above jealousy and guile,

A cool morning opens,

A fresh day of karma beckons,

I take full responsibility for my love

without bothering what does my dove.

I see and be with the now

with an accepting bow,

And the world changes for the better,

The clods of pain shatter,--

A lovely bird in my little garden,

A white-browed fan-tail flycatcher,

It sallies like a butterfly

to catch the irksome house fleas,

A beautiful bird,

Friendly, flirtatious hoops and loops.

Comes then a sound

above the human hound,

A solitary sarus crane

comes sailing through the air

with its trumpeting call sharp but fair,

I hope it hasn't got a love-fall,

It's amazing to see a sarus crane,

It's a symbol of love and fidelity,

The traits getting lost among we humans,

But the big bird holds it aloft,

The emotions soft

in a world hard

gets a smile the bard. 

 
 

Unripe for love

You spurn love
and its soft, supportive shove,
You think in love you are,

but maybe you are just at war

within yourself,

And instead of love

you are looking for pain;

through habitual suffering want to attain

the same painful past and addictive gain;

just a repetition of the past,-- 

cries, separation suffering.

Maybe you aren't yet

prepared to receive love,

rather you are scared of it,

The deep, habituated pain in you

is uncomfortable with fresh, new day's dew,

You are scared that

the love's warm rays

will reach where the suffering brays,

and melt it

with its divine hit.

Is it just about 

the partners being wrong?

Maybe you are unripe

and take another swipe

to clean and declutter the past,

Maybe you are just 

running away from your bitterness,

So how can you embrace

with full grace

love's sweet grasp?

Maybe you aren't yet ready to receive love

with grace, humility and dignity,

I just pray for you

and feel your pain,

Travel you well and ripen,

then receive and welcome love

at your doorstep o my dove. 

    

Hope

There is always hope,
As long as nature holds the rope
through its smile pure, 
Survive we will for sure!

Taking a deeper control of the Self

 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💐👍🏻🙏🏻

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!