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
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Croakings from the cot
Little
Master Corona
O
thou little master,
The
world was a bit faster,
You
now force brakes,
Lions
turn into drakes,
Even
newspaper is scary,
No
longer a news carrying fairy,
It
comes from Delhi,
Fear
pinches my guts and belly,
With
inhibitions I touch,
A
fearful world is such!
The
Story of a frost-beaten 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
Light
The
light does hark,
beyond
the deepest dark,
There
is a day bright,
after
the ghostly haunts of a nightmarish night,
After
a barren famished fight,
there
blossoms a springed delight,
After
pining pangs of separation,
there
is a worthy end to the desperation,
After
crashing in the gutters,
there
is a surge and rise to bathe in holy waters,
After
crying convulsions on the lips,
a
smile takes honeyed sips,
After
the last defeat,
still
there is an undying urge to accomplish the feat,
Even
when blind with despair,
there
is hope hiding and cajoling somewhere,
Even
in hate, love still lurks somewhere!
Lost
It
has been months since
I
last lit my faith's lamp,
So
many days have passed since
prayers
chimed in my dark den's air damp,
My
meditating self,
Now
gives atheistic yelp.
Lost
my faith!
Lost
my prayer!
Lost
my rituals!
Lost
my meditative trance!
The
story told by the soul to its own corpse
Once
I flew and frolicked high,
Now
the flesh and blood gone dry,
The
real me withdrew with a painful sigh,
They
say, 'I was destined to die,'
It's
but the biggest lie!
The
Night
Too
far and deep, I have gone into the pit of gloom,
And
lost in the cavernous folds of the impending doom,
Even
the brightest big suns now appear too far,
Faint
stars these now and just flash their inspiring rays,
Feeble
raylets reaching me cannot take out the ship caught in treacherous bays,
I
know the futility of the beckoning light,
Even
in its brightest folds outside, hope was always out of sight,
Now
i go deep into my night,
With
nobody as a witness to my plight,
All
cherished dreams out of sight,
A
wingless bird that tried to fly but then crashed from its struggled height,
Now
I just silently walk into the dark hold of my night,
Alone
and
forlorn,
Musicity
of my soft moan,
Carrying
me into hitherto unreachable zone!
Darkness
Too
far and deep, I have gone into the pit of gloom,
And
lost in the cavernous folds of the impending doom,
Even
the brightest big suns now appear too far,
Faint
stars these now and just flash their inspiring rays,
Feeble
raylets reaching me cannot take out the ship caught in treacherous bays,
I
know the futility of the beckoning light,
Even
in its brightest folds outside, hope was always out of sight,
Now
i go deep into my night,
With
nobody as a witness to my plight,
All
cherished dreams out of sight,
A
wingless bird that tried to fly but then crashed from its struggled height,
Now
I just silently walk into the dark hold of my night,
Alone
and
forlorn,
Musicity of my soft moan,
Carrying
me into hitherto unreachable zone!
Holy Fire
I
am the moth
and
I love my flame!
My
fire!
But
I feel the burning core of
the
glow around which
I
helplessly circle around!
I
know that I cannot stop
the
fire from burning,
So
I throw myself in a fiery pit
to
forget my dear flame's burning plight!
I
throw myself in a bigger fire
so
that I forget myself
and
my flame's cries!
Wednesday, November 21, 2018
The Voice Inside
The Voice Inside
Forget about the hoot and holler
emanating from the world outside,
And give an ear to the soft and murmurous
cooings emanating from the soul,
It has a soft and sympathetic
message for you only,--
your most personal message,
meant only for you,
Listen to these delicate chimes,
It’ll help you in finding peace in chaos,
In getting a foothold in the stampede,
In feeling rest, repose and respite
in the face of constant buffeting by the world around,
It’ll help you in breaking
the hardest of superficial layers,
which suffocate and limit your identity,
And put you face to face with
your true self, your
real worth,
Listen to it, close your eyes,
And pay attention with all your heart,
Just for a change,
don’t look far, look closest at yourself,
It’ll be as uneventful as looking
at a dust particle around your feet,
But it changes the universe for you,
You will have the biggest message
in the softest of whispering phrases!
And
it’ll help you in finding yourself.Saturday, November 17, 2018
My Mind, My Buddy
Be the
seat of my strength, not weakness.
Be the
seat of kindness, not cruelty.
Be the
source of light, not darkness.
Be the
source of energy, not idleness.
Be the
source of creativity, not limited vision.
Be the
source of love, not hate.
Be the
source of smiles, not tears.
Be the
source of happiness, not suffering.
Be the
seat of optimism, not pessimism.
Be
the seat of gain, not loss.
Be
the source of help, not obstruction.
Be
the seat of leadership, not just sheepwalk.
Be
the seat of a better human being.
Be
the source of a more loving person.
O my
mind, my seat of potential, take my journey further.
Please
choose the better half of all the dualities for me.
Keep
reminding your mind. Repeatedly. Daily. With eyes closed and fervent request.
It’s a very nice, nutritious pre-breakfast food.
Choosing the better side of the pair of our actions and feelings is as easy as flipping a coin in our fingers from head to tail. We are pre-conditioned for the negative end of dualities. The instinct can be broken. Just early morning practice is sufficient. It’s needs much as reminding the self. Repeatedly.
Friday, October 26, 2018
Thursday, October 25, 2018
Holding a dream in my fist
Staring at the
misty past
and forcing
myself not to see the future eager to unfold itself too fast,
I wave at the nostalgic
strains still beckoning and faintly alive,
How I wish I
could dive
back into the
pools of the past,
To have my
moments last
at a place
that held me in its cradle soft,
That pious embrace which still holds me aloft!!
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