The Immersion

http://thecreatorsproject.vice.com/blog/preview-a-giant-underwater-sculpture

In times, after a day tiring,
and in nights without rest…
I seek to sit beside you in silence,
to receive your warmth,
like you’re a fire lit beside camp,
and I am a vagabond, tired
of roaming in wild darkness.

I am inclined to fall into your lap,
to have some moments of rest,
like you’re a ground sacred,
and I am a leaf, that has
just parted from wreath.

I burn to slip into your hands,
to know what is it to be contained,
like you’re a goblet of rejuvenation,
and I, mere an ash – scattered,
from the glowing mountains.

I ache to immerse in your embrace,
to find how pain vanishes with grace,
like you’re a moon casting – a quilt of spells,
and I am a moth howling,
in lust of mystic flame.

I yearn to flow my pulse to your heart-beats,
to feel what’s rising and what’s drowning,
like you’re a river of passion scintillating,
and I, mere a stone split
from rocks eroded.

I wish to submerge inside your breaths,
to forget any other world that exists,
like you’re a portal to universe another,
and I, a war-ship, that long sought
exile from wars and battles.

I desire to sink my world in you,
in craving to earn, color of your hue.
Like you’re the star, arose
to inspire luminescence…
and I am among those
trifling forever in shadows…

No matter when you look,
you’ll find me longing for this essence.
Since,
I am too tired of whole world around
lingering their eyes on me
seeking some complacence.
While, all I strive is to settle
in your arms, as a meaningless.

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– Dedicated to the only beloved who can immerse a lover totally…

Image Credits:

  1. “Ocean Atlas – Created by Jason deCaires Taylor” – Source: thecreatorsproject.vice.com
  2. “Christ of the Abyss – Created by Guido Galletti” – Source: viralnova.com

C percent amore

Sunflowers and a tree

You occupy my world, no matter where I see…

You are as refreshing as ice tea
amidst a hot scorching day,
of which even trees seem to seek
a drowning place.
Yet, for one who can have you,
wouldn’t wish
the days of summer to ever end.

You are as loving and carefree
as new monsoon rain,
post storms and thunderous flash,
screams of which scare both
living and undead.
Yet, for one who can have you,
wouldn’t wish
the sigh of clouds to ever end.

You are as rejuvenating as the soil
of a holy place,
one that has received countless
subservient seeking liberation.
For one who can have you,
would sure become
a seed turning in a new leaf.

You’re as tender as the breeze
blowing from high gardens,
for the one who has served life
in a closet.
For one who can have you,
wouldn’t wish
a return, to any other imprisonment.

You are as fragrant as an incense
burning at steeple of the lovers,
those who sought life after death.
For one who can have you,
would sure linger more,
waiting for winds to gust
fast with your kisses.

You are as encompassing as lake,
the eyes of the valley land,
open for one who’s never sighted
any miracles.
For, one who can have you,
would keep praising without a flinch,
till each corner leaks stream.

You are as inviting as bird humming,
singing new song every morning,
perching on ear drums of one
who’s drunk sleeping.
For, one who can have you,
would not just trip at melodies,
but dance with silent symphonies.

Yet, my beloved, I know not,
how to define you
like you define all…
Way you carry in your essence,
the pathway to my soul.
Nor I carry any idea,
to spell what your world’s made for…
But then, what do I know…?
Since, I merely dwell at cent
of the C percent amore…

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Yet, what I love of you, is speckle in the galaxy.

– Dedicated to the beloved, who we love all about, yet only like the one away from the ocean, like merely standing on the shore.

Image Credits:
1. Sunny Meadow – Stock image (GettyImages)
2. Pinching Galaxy – Stock image – (shutterstock)

Her Eyes

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“Eyes are portal to the soul.”
If you ever feel confused, or unsure,
and want to find out if you’ve really begun
to fall for someone,
then just ask yourself this…
how much you adore your beloved’s eyes…?
Enough, to dive deep in them and
make the world inside them your own?
Wish you enough, to see what they see,
what they reflect, what they rise and fall on?

My friend, told me that…
But I for one, never knew how one can ever describe the eyes….

I mean, how can you do it?
You gonna define its color…?
You gonna express how they shine…?
You gonna fall for its shape or its size..?
Or you gonna describe way they close and reopen…?

Like, what possibly any pair of eyes can do differently
that would make them stand apart
from countless others belonging to similar species…?

And then one day it struck me…
I knew one pair of eyes, perhaps, more than I knew mine.
It was the day I realized, “I know her enough…”
Too clichéd, yeah? I asked my self the same…
But it wasn’t like I fell for those beautiful gems,
right the moment I gazed into them.
It took its time. But to be honest…
It wasn’t fair, from beginning to the end.

I think, it’s really impossible to ignore
the raw beauty they possessed,
after all…

How could one possibly ignore one that saw the pain
like a sky mourning for the Sun after the rain…
Like reminding us, how often we don’t appreciate
worth of something until its far too late.
Eyes that would not just mourn but burn
the Sun within to set things right the way they can…
Applying herself like a dawn of hope in dark nights
of those who’d rather wish to sleep
forever under blankets of numbness post pain
than remaining awake to heal and change
for what’s left still, what can still be saved.

How could I have escaped the effect of eyes
that were inclined to see something positive,
something worth saving and cherishing
in every soul they ever met.
Like a sprout of a fragrance that leaves from the flowers
irrespective of whose surrounding they engage.
Eyes that saw things based on their intensity, their essence,
no matter caste, creed, color, background, ethnicity,
social status, or religious difference.
Like a wind tending the garden, touching all the flowers
with the love and grace, without splitting or grading them.

How can one turn an eye blind at way her eyes would see the world
like a living orchestra constantly producing symphonies…
Way her eyes would manage to see and read something to be learned
and kept as a part of soul out of even catastrophe…
Like her eyes would know exactly where to look, to find
a voice in silence, to find expressions in stoic and music in noise…
In totally bland and apparently common things of life,
that we tend to ignore trivially… they discover sense and poetry.

I think I can define…
Its color…? They’re rainbows and butterfly mosaics combined…
in a way that one can never keep its full spectrum confined.
They give life to world, leaking warmth in seams.
Its shine…? They’re an ocean with sparkling glitter of skies.
Reflecting both the golden hues of day and moonlight’s silver gown in night.
They give hope, they speak of light.
Its shape…? They’ve a shape of the sea shells, enclosing pearls within,
they’re made to carry even anomalies, that can emerge into exquisite.
Its size..? They’re limitlessly deep… pathway to the cosmos,
way to the galaxies, deep and wide than anything ever seen.
They give intensity to those who dwell just on cursory or surfaces…
And way they close and reopen…? Well, they keep themselves open like wells,
to contain the wishes, to encapsulate the moments, the vivid dreams,
moreover, they open like the wings of angels… determined to help spirits.
And they close on like the gates of palace and castles, saving everything inside,
from those who’re unfriendly and intrusive. Who try to malign a soul or mind.

I just love the way they sees things…
And never once yet it happens that they rise with a pride
or drown with keeping an air of numbness or vanity…
They are curious like the baby’s, wishing to know more and yet
as still and weary as an elderly’s piercing the hides to dwell deep.

Yes, I know from her eyes, that I love the world
that she inhabits in them, all that’s read by them,
world that these eyes reflect on,
but above all, I love the way they convert pain
into something positive,
way they forgive, way they rejoice, way they stare deep inside,
way they make one realize…
there’s more to world then what meets the eyes.
I do indeed, love her eyes…

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– Dedicated to the beloved’s eyes… (this poem is an ensemble piece of several small poems written on same theme).

Image Credits:
1. Soul Washout by Clarisse Litiatco (Deviantart)
2. Colored Eye Drawing by Kate Louise Powell (Pinterest)

Trampoline of Hope

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The Fallen Angel – I look for you, to rise again…

My love,
If I ever escape from your pull
remind me, like a Star,
how I need your charm,
to remain like a moon,
rather a dull rock.

If I ever get lost amidst the way
remind me, my love,
like a Sun,
how I need your direction,
to remain like a journeyman,
rather a mere wanderer.

If I ever begin to drown in ocean
remind me, my love,
like a steadfast sail,
how I need to work the waves,
to remain like a swimmer,
rather a sunk weight.

If I ever begin falling from grace
remind me, my love,
with a holy spell,
how I need to tend my wings,
to remain an angel,
rather a devil’s advocate.

If I ever feel defeated in battle
remind me, my love,
like a trampoline of hope,
how I can rise back,
to remain in knight’s form,
rather than a mercy rag.

If I ever start loosing a grip
remind me, my love,
like your hem’s knit,
how I need a safety net,
to remain like a mountain,
rather than an abyss.

If I ever begin to break in skin,
remind me, my love,
like one sculpting,
how I need to collect shards,
to remain composed as a piece,
rather than one fallen apart.

Remind me always,
my love
of our days,
the tears we shed,
and laughs we had,
moments we made,
for all time we spent.

But, do bring me back,
from depths of darkness.
For you’ve to remember this,
light is needed the most
at the gloomiest.

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The Flying Angel – It’s your spirit that always keeps me propelled.

– Dedicated to the beloved – who fills our heart with hope and joy, never giving up on us, no matter what.

Image Credits:
1. Fallen Angels (Cover art) – tophdgallery.com
2. Angel in Sky – blog.gggodonou.me

Weather and Whether…

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“Lets ride today to the east coast…”
whispered the wind, blowing in spree…
Perhaps,
Weather is today, pretty nice with me…

The clouds gathered around,
they too formed up a gang,
like a couch made of snow…
An invitation extended:
“Just lay on for a while, like a retiree…”
Weather is indeed, pretty nice with me…

And here I smell the earth
at its driest now,
yet there’s a hint of spring,
right before rain’s to perch
I hear, grains of sand iterating…
“Like a fume, set yourself free…”
Weather is a darling to me…

But tell me, my love…
How come weather is one needed now, to narrate this…?

What happened to days,
when our morning was about
watching the other rising from sheets,
uttering the playful words
in half-slept voice…

Your expressing the dreams,
my interpreting possibilities….
our paving the way for the stars,
just for them to sink
right into our grasps for kissing…

Poems we read each other,
whispering the name of other in between,
chasing dreams in time,
like moths chasing moonlight
besides a flowing stream…

Your warm embrace,
your stretched arms and glow,
like a cherry tree dripping,
a hallmark of the evening…
and mine becoming…
like a lost bird making it home,
after day spent in wandering…

When whole room was delighted,
just like soul with-in,
catching you hum,
lyrics of songs and eternal sonnets,
My smiling just gazing you do that,
your knowing this and biting your lips.

To that twinkle of your eyes,
that laughter in rejoice…
that made my heart beat up
like some orchestrated choir at church,
faithfully deepening…

Look how potent they’re,
that even weather reminds me
of those moments spent,
in your presence…

When our eyes, and
not the weather was one to tell us,
our conversations were like seeds,
moments born of them were fruits,
ripe enough for savoring…
to satiate our hunger for rare,
to fill our quota of belonging,
in a manner,
as though we were always one,
existences apart in life before
were mere colors,
awaiting to emerge as a rainbow.

But out in this weather,
I still feel a void… I seek…
fragrance that accompanied the wind…
countenance, that used to emerge in formation of clouds…
fumes, of drizzle, that used to freeze the time,
and rain that used to seize the moment…

I can’t drown in weather,
or the memory,
nor I can communicate with wind…
or follow-up with clouds,
or keep the rain’s avid timing….

I gather,
No sea can trace the depth of eyes,
and only drowning in them,
can sooth the volcanoes of heart,
that can never be calmed by wind,
clouds or the rains…

Though weather is nice today, my love,
I need you to show me,
how can I be nice to it…

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– Dedicated to an inviting weather and the reluctant subject…

Art Credits:

1. Rainy Weather – Painting by Victor Figol
2. ‘The Black Mountains’ – Freddie Ardley Photography

One Night

Let moon be full and its silver be abound. Let us meet under its glory to never be found.

Let moon be full and its silver be abound.
So we meet in its glory to never be found.

One night he rose from a sleep
grasping her scent while breathing…
Night he desired to rub the flowers on her,
To breed the petals in her mold,
and to paint her garden within.

One night he sleep walked to the moon
like a glow bug but found there nothing…
Night he desired the moonlight
to bask her in,
so he may paint her sky within.

One night he woke to a song and traced an origin,
found a nest yet no bird in it.
Night he desired a moment
to listen her singing, a poem of his…
So he may carry her symphony within.

One night he found himself lying beside her
hunting brightest star in a ceaseless ceiling.
Night he desired to trace
lines on her palm, his blessings,
so he may find a hope within.

One night he found himself interlocked
in her tresses beguiling…
Night he didn’t care to know
whether he was awake or sleeping…
Perhaps,
he didn’t want to escape
a dream alive within.

– Dedicated to a dream – a midnight view.

Art/ Image credits: Stock image – a wallpaper.

The Gift

Like a garden full of flowers, I wish you a state full of fragrance...

Like a garden full of flowers, I wish you a state full of fragrance…

They say, you wish one a world, one who is a world to you.
Well, I wish I can truly do something that close for you.

It is your birthday and I can’t think of any gift that I can find you…
There isn’t anything in world that you don’t already have.
Yet for all what you have given me I must gift you something.

So I wish you here, not just happiness or good future, my love,
but means to create a state of perpetual one.

Here, I wish…

Your heart to be brim with passion and compassion,
where living is worth more than continuance for existence.
Where enabling and empowering positive impact matters more
than counting breaths for mere survival.
Where contentment of spirit sustains life,
than chase of lights in gloss and glimmer.
Where like a burning sun passion propels its power in self-reliance,
and casts the net of hope all over not just on own shelter.
Where hope leads to drive, to ethically disciplined action,
and each act is backed by love and constant inner radiance.

I wish your mind to wonder…
with inquisitiveness of a learner,
to ponder with rationale and reason,
to choose with due-diligence,
and to plan for generations
than a transitory period.
I wish you hold the eager eyes of a yearner,
child-like curiosity of a toddler,
to discover new planes, to embark on new adventures,
to earn and gather a value worth experience.
I wish you contemplation of a monk,
seeking the truth behind a curtain,
one who desires more than a cursory experience.

I wish you a voice, freedom of expression,
one that leashes peaks of the mountains,
and touches a depth of the canyons,
one that echoes in minds as much
as it floods the heart’s defensive chambers.
Songs that summon the clouds,
poems that bend the river.
An expression ruling the pulse,
inviting in realm of trance,
critical thought and reflection.

I wish you a stance unbiased and undazzled.
One that is steadfast on its values and its spirit.
One that would put through a lot but never give up
to fight for what’s right and what’s clear.
One that would work for a justice,
and struggle for an independence
from bias, non-reason, prejudice and indifference.
A stance that would keep itself in check
reviewing timely what matters.
Like a journeyman traveling
keeping track of weather and his condition…
while never forgetting the mission.

I wish you a freedom – independence
from shackles of conformity –
rules of yesteryear,
that bogs one down,
and pushes them in trap of temporary security
than a permanent freedom;
And freedom from all overrides
that impedes one’s growth –
one’s chances of reaching height of relevance
and creativity’s pinnacle.

I wish you be as free as a breeze
carrying scent of the gardens,
one that carries fragrance from flowers,
leaking a joy in atmosphere,
and like of free birds who know not of the
boundaries sketched on papers,
as they are oblivious of
man-made jurisdictions
and all artificial restrictions,
such as those that try to snub a birth right,
or those that try to cage the spirit,
or those that clip the feathers.

I don’t know what else to give you
as a birthday present, my love…

But it never ends at making a wish,
does it?
With each wish coming out from the heart
it requires a commitment from a wisher…
to be ready, to do their part,
to always do what it takes to see it through.

So, I gift you, my love…
my dream,
my passion and my promise –
I will be along,
to become a state in my own
that I wish to see in you.

Happy Independence Day!

– Dedicated to a dear love.

Art/ Image credits:
Flag-Art-with-Grass – mosthdwallpapers.com