The Omen

31st July, '09

A winding- binding path this,
A bouncy feather in the gale,
Nothing astir or running amiss,
no breadcrumbs on this trail.

Shooting stars lie in watery pools,
An image of fire gone sour,
Butterflies turning into toadstools,
there's unrest near and far.

The window opens, a match is struck,
frightened faces on a wind-swept night,
was it destined or is it just luck,
two screech-owls get into a fight.

A whirlpool of trouble, a storm of pain,
swirling, forcing its way within,
the wind and the scent before a rain,
and the forest throbbing to a muted din.

Suddenly with a clap, the wind falls flat,
the clouds break open in a mighty roar,
swish-swash come the drops so fat,
and it rains and rains like never before.

The earth is full, the skies are drenched,
swimming in their own wretched dreams,
And try as hard as you may wrench,
they don't give way at the seams.

A winding-binding path this,
a watery trail to nothingness,
an omen was cast, a moment conquered,
It's part of the trail, no more, no less.

Mirth

5th July, '09

I wish to laugh.
Light, twittering,
with my head thrown up in the air.
My laughter rising into the morning,
soaking up the sunbeams in its path,
and falling back into my life.

I wish to laugh,
Gay, chirpy,
like a child enjoying a mindless joke,
invisible to every mind but its own.

I wish to laugh,
Happy, satisfied,
like two lovers entwined in their love,
floating in their bubble,
of unconditional adoration.
With no tomorrows or yesterdays to be bothered with.

There It Stands

14th June, '09

There it stands,
an inch away,
a destiny waiting to unfold;
underneath the spanless, testing skies,
underneath a vengeful watchful eye,
it quivers, yet stays so bold.

There it lies,
an inch away,
peace for eternal time;
lazy, languid in its place,
staring at my teary face,
calm in its knowledge sublime.

There it quivers,
an inch away,
the streak of searing, sparkling light;
gloating in its own embrace,
confident in its power to efface,
darkness from my inner sight.

And here I sit,
with waiting eyes,
twitching arms and a weary smile,
waiting, waiting forever more,
to hear the sound of fate's galore.

Picture-Perfect

5th May, '09

Limbs ache with no change,
the mind is frozen with expectation,
days roll into one another,
a warm blanket of submission.
Jagged scars find a way to heal,
Far-fetched dreams crawl out of the door,
the paintbrush slips, our fates are sealed,
this painting will never be perfect again.

Crossing Over

30th April, '09

I lie at the bottom,
of a sparkling stream,
the sunlight streaking upto me.
Pebbles lay smooth,
like mounds of butter,
layered with golden honey.
Hyacinths floating above my face,
stop to touch and tickle my nose,
the water gurgling at the surface,
peeps at me while it flows.
Driftwood pillows my heavy head,
its branches gently rocking me,
I lay there calm and peaceful now,
a picture of serenity.
Fishes swim into my palms,
between my fingers, through my hair,
nibbling at my throat and arms,
welcoming me into their lair.
I lie under the gurgling stream,
looking up at the trees and the skies,
the clouds are lolling,
the rain comes falling,
but I just lie on by.

This's where I'll lie,
until they come,
the ones from yonder above,
I hear they're crying,
pained and glum,
morose at their lost love.
But I'm in no hurry,
to leave so soon,
this watery new home of mine,
I feel no ties, no bonds, no pain,
or even the passage of time.
A lifetime spent in an absurd search,
lying at the bottom,
of a gurgling stream,
Sometimes, death is sweeter,
than is thought,
and life more futile than it may seem.

Homecoming

28th April, '09

Familiar streets, warm with knowing,
my memories infinite, secret;
my womb of struggling years,
my confidante ethereal.
Buried with stories at each curve,
buried with the knowledge of my being,
fragrant, elusive, yesterdays,
the delusive and the real.
I wait to be one with you again,
I wait for the reunion of our spirits once more,
I wait to be under your watch again,
My chaperon of unseen dreams.

Reminiscing

27th April, '09

Sunlight caught in the cobwebs of time,
shimmering, dazzling,
catches my eye,
forming infinite untraceable patterns,
lost in the infiniteness of eternity.
But somewhere suddenly,
a chord is struck,
a memory awakened,
a sliver of silver salvaged,
and history,
clear as a pool,
heavy as dew,
floats into my palms again.