...just...
I be
the breath
of a souls reach
gasping
to experience all
both...from stoic sustenance
or the breathless rush
of thrilling flight
yearning
to break free
of gravity and clinging moulds
of givens
that set limits
of ordained paths...of exist
policed by fears of risks
such confiement
breeds challenge
armed
with a spirit
that reflects
amidst even raging storms
a beauty
that lies so often...veiled
within presumably unpromising dirt
or dark depths
that dog and fringe
a universe
at large
around me
and within me
as I try to act and react
through expressions
lighting fires within
in shadows...that obscure
yours and mine
and us or ours
with warmth...and flaming color
from palettes
I can conjure
of passion, substance and nuance
woven together in tandem
as a spell...of words
cast-a ways on the waters
of thought
probing
in ever expanding ripples
of initiation
striving to grow...to be more
a majesty
of catalytic waves
expending selves
in merging melds
to emerge
again
perhaps cyclical
in this flow... of ideas
reborn...as new learning
of lessons drawn
from every fresh immerse
by my primal groping
for connect...for straws of purpose
and the simple hope to convey and be
understood
I be
the bequest
of such dying
churning's
in metaphor...a Phoenix...arisen
from dead ashes
seeking .moksh' or fulfillment...
in true acceptance...not just charity
for
what I am
or think I can or be
in measured scales
of societal respectability
duly scored in the writ
of perceptions coin
as a rhapsody of grandeur
or humility
read
or summarily dismissed
as ponderous
by another's range
of understanding
or in lack thereof...merely mundane
In truth
my lines are always strivings
rooted deep within...mostly
reactive
sometimes...or when sparked
spurred on
by a muse...to be a poem
sensed and felt
in its caring touch and flow
as a gesture wrought
to empower forever in hope
a wistful dream
...for love...
August 2009
the breath
of a souls reach
gasping
to experience all
both...from stoic sustenance
or the breathless rush
of thrilling flight
yearning
to break free
of gravity and clinging moulds
of givens
that set limits
of ordained paths...of exist
policed by fears of risks
such confiement
breeds challenge
armed
with a spirit
that reflects
amidst even raging storms
a beauty
that lies so often...veiled
within presumably unpromising dirt
or dark depths
that dog and fringe
a universe
at large
around me
and within me
as I try to act and react
through expressions
lighting fires within
in shadows...that obscure
yours and mine
and us or ours
with warmth...and flaming color
from palettes
I can conjure
of passion, substance and nuance
woven together in tandem
as a spell...of words
cast-a ways on the waters
of thought
probing
in ever expanding ripples
of initiation
striving to grow...to be more
a majesty
of catalytic waves
expending selves
in merging melds
to emerge
again
perhaps cyclical
in this flow... of ideas
reborn...as new learning
of lessons drawn
from every fresh immerse
by my primal groping
for connect...for straws of purpose
and the simple hope to convey and be
understood
I be
the bequest
of such dying
churning's
in metaphor...a Phoenix...arisen
from dead ashes
seeking .moksh' or fulfillment...
in true acceptance...not just charity
for
what I am
or think I can or be
in measured scales
of societal respectability
duly scored in the writ
of perceptions coin
as a rhapsody of grandeur
or humility
read
or summarily dismissed
as ponderous
by another's range
of understanding
or in lack thereof...merely mundane
In truth
my lines are always strivings
rooted deep within...mostly
reactive
sometimes...or when sparked
spurred on
by a muse...to be a poem
sensed and felt
in its caring touch and flow
as a gesture wrought
to empower forever in hope
a wistful dream
...for love...
August 2009
Recent Comments