The golden feathers of a bird in the spring sunshine glittered, Oh’ upon her soft feathers wind glided, Alone she rested and in thoughts maybe, About the flight when summer warmth in air dance, And in the cold morning of the fall fly, Through the falling leaves low, The ones once were green and large and gave, Shelter and cover from mother nature’s wrath. Then about the migration paths to find, Leaving the howling winds and the piercing frost, When to the southern thin and warm air fly, But nothing down south can comfort, Like the big green leaf’s touch, When the piercing sun rays of the late summer noon binds, When rain down comes and upon the leaf and splash, And under it when with soaked feathers sit, With nudging little ones for cover squeaking, Yet another season unfolding, Yet another set of events to come, So much dynamism, So much fascination, Yet, results of events and actions, Same as gone by days.
I just thought of writing a poem and wrote the following. Then I thought I will write an introduction and blog post. I wrote some then I said, C’Mon man don’t do this. Because that blog post I wrote was filled with profanity. There are people in this world who thinks they are the best, you know what, they will learn that life is not what they think it is. Someone once asked me when I said, You will learn. “What will I learn?” here is the answer. You will learn that love and care is not something that will come to you easily. A dedicated lover will never leave or can never leave. All you see as friends, family are all reasons to reach that love. They will not last longer than they intended to stay with you. As for the person who truly love and care about you, it is up to you to decide how long that person should stay. I didn’t say that at that time as I know my anger may take what I may say as a curse for that someone. I can never, ever curse that person. But unfortunately that person chose the path that painfully will teach that person the lesson. The above said thoughts kinda triggered this poem. It was so quickly written and I am very busy with some things, I just was not able to go through the poem a second time. My critics, kill me if you want to for any errors I made.
Frozen Seeds.
Buried in the forces of winter so brutal, You all sleep under the comfort of freeze. Freeze by the will of nature brought, And through lands and seas in north, spread.
Remember the beginning of colder months, When the first leaf through the light cold breeze floated, And upon the green grass fallen helplessly. Oh’ the tree in pride at the dead lost leaf, looked.
Then one by one seeds by many means taken, Some by birds, some by people, many just fell, And through fires, rains and winds far away went, Life in a shell kept, in forced sleep.
Are you all dreaming to see the sunlight? Are you all dreaming to see the blinking stars? Are you all dreaming to soak in rains of spring? Are you all dreaming to dance in the summer warmth?
With new leaves, flowers giving sweet honey and fruit, Are you all dreaming to leave a mark of your own in this world? Land is old, the air will be new, the winds will come, With songs sung by birds in far away lands.
What lessons one can learn though not seen, Thinking about a seed, deep buried, Though in wonder one can still smile, As life is same for all creations one know.
I am still sick actually not a lot more sick but I am sick. Coughing at steady intervals. Medicines have made my body very toxic that’s what I can say. So I am staying away from everyone sitting in the basement. I hope everyone survived the arctic blast. Woo that was cold but you know what, even though it makes me sick, I love the cold, freeze, snow and Ice any day. What else is going on? Mmm Obama received the Nobel peace prize pssst and justified wars. Daang he is one lucky guy who is fighting war on one side and receiving peace prize on the other. Anyway no other news really touched me than that. Actually it made me laugh. The world was way better when I was a kid at least spiritually.
Well, you all might’ve seen the video I posted along with the last poem. I can add just this. I am not a person who takes my way upon others, there is a way each and every person live, believes and achieves. It differs from person to person. One person’s treasure is another’s trash that doesn’t mean all are trash. I don’t thrust my ideas upon others just because I think for me it is right, it may be wrong for another person. So people should understand we are in many ways a collection of more than 6 billion islands connected by the care and love we give each other. It is those connections that makes life peaceful and more wonderful. Some people from totally different backgrounds, age and even geographical distances connect together in this age of information highway. Once connected even though people may not see, hear or communicate each other just don’t lose the connection between themselves. It will be there beyond, past, present and future which is defined by time. In the spiritual world, there is no time factor. Well, that’s just my way. Tell me about your way of dealing with things from past, in present, thinking about future.
Here is a poem I wrote as a first draft a while back and now gave a different context. The word Unchoreographed is not a perfect word as one may not find it in any dictionary. But it conveys the meaning in my mind. The idea of the poem is simple. It takes two to tango hehe. See, a connection happens between two people. It is up to those two to decide where to take it. Sometime one will fail to understand or some people go through delusions of just not accepting the fact that there is a feeling of care for another person. They try everything to just get rid of the feeling, justify with every means why they don’t care. Each time, they will only underline the care and love for another person. At times that reality makes both very, very sad. These are the thoughts that came to my mind when I wrote this poem. The whole idea is not depicted in the poem as is. But you all will know what is implied when you finish reading this poem.
Rhythms Of An Unchoreographed Dance.
Step by step the dancer moved, The rhythm from music in mind heard gathered, Picturing next steps standing on the present, Not knowing anything about the next steps, As all that is real is the past and the new born moment.
The mysterious illusions so tempting to follow, The tender naked feet so fast lay, Dragging thoughts way deep in the past erupted. All those thoughts under those well laid steps buried.
Past is the history, the well laid foundation, Future is the illusion the hunter in everyone hunts, And present is where past can bring us, And the bows well stretched to fire the feelings to morrows.
Though so wonderful to watch the dancer’s dance, Taking rhythm from heart in spontaneity births, For the odd laid steps a rhythm in another heart births, For which no tune the dancer heard.
Every step of the dance piece of the jigsaw puzzle, Every piece placed in the order it meant to be, The puzzle when finished should always look, In the past when the puzzle was drawn, And step by step of a dance from a dynamic mind, Portrayed the face of a lover the dancer never expected to see.
Oh listen to your own heart beat, The whistling tunes gather the dusts of past, From which colors of all kinds in love brewed, And a jigsaw puzzle through fate of life made, The finished jigsaw puzzle is meant to be in your heart, Reality of all this is a dance none choreographed, The rhythm of that dance can be heard, Only when counterpoints of two heart beats are heard.
