#37 : Sunset

I could be anywhere

Anywhere at all

On a secluded beach,

or crowded metro station,

In the seclusion of my home

Or at a viewpoint when on vacation

Standing on a roof top,

Or the apartment’s parking lot

In a wide, open field,

or in peak traffic caught

In a party full of friends

The music in a crazy din

Or on a long solo walk

With the peace seeping in

Each time I glance at the sky at dusk

I am transported into a magical world

With each colour in a stunning swirl.

Like a whirling dervish

Deep in his trance

Is colouring the skies

With the ecstasy of his dance.

And I could be feeling anything

Anything at all,

Either weary and beaten

By the struggles of the day

Or filled with gratitude

for the blessings that came my way

Looking forward to a new start

That has just begun to flow

Or struggling with a goodbye

When I am not ready to let go,

Each time I glance

at the evening sky

I feel emptied of the

what’s and why’s

As the glorious sunset

around me unfurls

Reminding me that

all’s right with my world.

Though I see the deepening darkness

Slowly bring the day to end

I sink into the peace and joy

Knowing that just around the bend

Awaits the sun, my powerful friend.

#36 - Changing Shades of Summer

I remember a time when summer was

Endless days of mindless fun

As we played in the scorching sun

Without a care or pause.

A time when mangoes lay in crates

The still air laden with their scent

And we ate them to our heart’s content

As the seeds lay stacked in our plates

And when the play for the day seemed done

It was time for books and treats

Under makeshift tents of torn bedsheets

That always had enough room for everyone

With each year these memories fade

The crates replaced by boxes small

Instead of tents, now tall glass walls

As through the workload we wade

And though sometimes the day is cooled

With much awaited evening rains

I do miss all the play, the games

Those days when mangoes and magic ruled!

#35 - The meeting of two worlds

(prompt: last line of your previous poem - first line of this one)

Under the canopy of forest skies

In a web that binds them all

The creatures live in quiet regard

For lives around big and small.

Here the survival of the fittest applies 

So do the laws of synergy 

Each creature playing their unique part 

In sync with the earth's energy.

Many lessons we could learn from there
If only one truly cares
But all we seem to do is encroach
Our home taking precedence over theirs 

I wonder if the creatures look beyond their land 

Wonderingly at our grey cityscapes.

As much as we look at their green lush worlds 

Longing for a quick escape.

#34 - The Sharing of Stories

Have you seen a story travel over winding dusty roads - 

On the lips of the minstrel traveling through the lands,

Planting hope with the words of the wise 

Have you seen a story travel through the pats of the grandma - 

The myth and made-up tales - all inheritance from her wrinkled hands

Passed onto sleep-laden eyes.

Have you see a story travel from the dog-eared pages of a book - 

As words become vivid images creating a whole new world of adventure 

With all its lows and highs

Have you seen a story travel on the sparks of a campfire bright - 

As the raconteur weaves dreams and fears into tales that survived a million years 

Under the canopy of the forest skies.

#33 Dreams

धूप से धुले हुएँ आँगन में दौड़ें यूँ

जैसे कोई पतंग उड़े चला बादलों को छू। 

और जब जब इस  धूप में होंसला लगे तपने, 

छाँव बन जातें है आकर सारे सपने

#32 Hope

I wish a star would shine today

Above the blackness of our days

Above the anger and the pain

To see another die in vain

And as we walk into the night

Clenched fists become handshakes  again. 

(prompt: Write in iambic meter)

#31: Beating the Blues

Sometimes I wish I could drape

a piece of the sky around you

So that you would remember

How you believed you could fly.

Other times, I wish I could lay the ocean

Right outside your doorstep

So that you could look beyond the walls

And see a limitless world to live by.

Maybe then, you could break free

From these self-imposed boxes

And with the sky for your wings

And the sea at your feet,

Find the strength to go seeking

Those mysterious, magical lands

That lay just beyond the horizon,

where the sky and the sea meet.

Or if the call of adventure

Seems too daunting in these times

At least walk to the shores

Leaving old imprints on the sands

Casting off the voices that hold you back

All the shoulds, the nevers, the can’ts

Until all you hear is call of the seabirds

Guiding lost sailors to safe lands.

I know it feels like it’s too late now

You say this is all you can be

The call of the sky and sea overwhelming

All you feel is the churning inside you.

Until you know you are not alone

Until you believe again in your dreams

I’ll be right by your side, I’ll be your voice,

And for now paint your walls blue.

#30: Strangers

Strangers on an airplane, yet

Between both a clear connect

Smiles that say "good choice"

For identical novels we hold    

While our stories remain untold.

(5 lines - 5 word poem)


Here's what Nia wrote:

Two strangers, never to meet.

Both working in different shifts.

Mechanically going out and in

Losing themselves in the din

In their silences - poetry written!

#29 : home after work

They both walk into the door

At the end of a hard day

He sees a place of rest 

His very own kingdom 

The sofa a welcoming throne

On which is will soon sprawl leisurely 

Reading the paper. 

She sees the start 

of her second shift for a job 

she hadn't even applied for,

Yet she unquestioningly takes on, 

Efficiently moving from one task to another on autopilot mode. 

He looks up only to acknowledge the offering of coffee  

The rich aroma a reminder of his privilege. 

Never will he notice how others tiptoe around him

Not wanting to disturb him

And in their silence hailing his position as the head of the household. 

She looks up only to take the next service request

Of unfinished craft projects

and specific dietary needs to be met

Never will she notice how everyone stomps around 

Not ever pausing to ask want she needs 

And in their silence declaring that this is what she signed up for 

When she decided to work. 

And as the evening slips into the night

They both lean back and sigh in unison 

"There's no place like home"

The words just the same,
Yet in very different tones.

#28 Survival guide 2018

BREATHE – PLAY – LOVE

Survival Guide 2018

Breathe through the smog of the divisive doctrines

Reach out with each breath to hold hands

Even if the other seems from another world 

And in the reaching out you will see

The truth that we are more alike  

However different our outward realities seem

Each connected to the other by our shared humanity 

Play as if your very survival depends on it 

Letting the rules emerge as your go along 

Allowing strangers to join in just as they are 

You know they are friends in disguise after all 

Love the world as it appears at your doorstep each day 

Often though a tough challenge it may seem 

Voice out the message of compassion, of hope and 

Eventually you will survive 2018! 

#27 Random musings #3

The waves they fall and rise

Again and again 

In a weary rhythmic pace

Like a hopeful young man 

Working with the Dumbbells 

In the silence of his room

To have those strong arms 

That can bear the weight of his life.  

How else can the seashore

Carry all the weight of 

The dreams

The despair

The hopes

The fears

The love

The heartbreak

The laughs

The tears 

Of hundreds who come there

Alone or with their beloved

Whispering confessions  

Each evening 

Watching the sun disappear

into the sea

Taking with it all the was meant to be

And leaving in the deepening shadows 

The promise of a fresh start. 

(Prompt : dumbbell, seashore, hope)

#26: In Today's Times

I know this world seems a confusing place 

I see the questions looming large on your little face 

As you start piecing together 

The breaking news

Remnants of grownup talks

Theories of your friends 

To plot a map that will

Be your guide. 

But what map can take you past doors locked twice 

Or help you see through all the hollow advice 

We hand out 

Hoping that the devices 

The safety apps  

and the tracking

Will keep you safe 

Knowing that this armour is as unreal

As the virtual world that birthed it. 

And will come crumbling 

The moment you walk into walls

Created by the taradiddle of the mighty  

Beti bachao now seeming more a warning than a slogan of change.  

Dear child, I don't know what lies to sprout 

As I stammer to answer your questions about 

Why anyone would kill an eight year old 

And I want you to believe that  

our streets aren't as unsafe

As the meadows she called home. 

But I know these lies won't  serve both you and I. 

So despite every instinct to hold you tight

I know you'll need to learn how to fight 

These lies, these bastions of blind power 

And for that here's all I can tell

Never be afraid to take a stand 

And speak up though you may be a lonely voice 

Trust the map inside your being

Deciding your own set of truths to live by 

Never resting on what seem like wins

For the best of the gardens always need weeding

And know that past these dark, confusing times 

There would be a glorious sunrise waiting, my little girl 

To remind you about the wonders of our precious world. 

# 25: The city that never sleeps

 Come one, come all for she calls you

With arms open wide to hold all your dreams 

Don't let the crowds, the smells overwhelm you

And it is but a myth that this city is bursting at its seams.  

For you shall find just the perfect space for you 

In crowded buildings and packed trains you'll fit right in. 

But only if you don't let the pace sweep you off you feet 

 You will find many opportunities even in the noisy din. 

To practice your own catwalk into the life you dreamed

On her concrete corridors decked with amber streetlights

And you will start to notice that chaos and order run like parallel train tracks 

Carrying every single person in this city, no matter what their plight. 

And you shall find friends among strangers as they shift

to graciously offer you that fourth spot on the seat. 

They may not smell or talk like you yet you'll find 

That your dreams create that common ground for you to meet

As you  will discover over casual chats over bhel and cutting chai

Standing in stairways lined with stains of paan 

ज़रा हटके ज़रा बचके, यह है Bombay मेरी जान! 

#24 : House of Lies

Remember the story of the three little pigs?

In a ploy to escape the wolf and stay safe

Each tried to make a home strong and sturdy 

And yet each time they conceded defeat. 

And finally it was the house of bricks,

That pig #3 built that did the trick. 

That's the kind of house we build 

With the lies we often tell ourselves. 

It starts with wanting safety from the fears outside

But before we know it, we completely lock ourselves in. 

The house of bricks becomes a prison strong,

Making even all our rights seem all wrong. 

I too once built a strong house of lies,

For denial seemed the only way to cope

From my failures, from my broken dreams ,

Wanting a haven where the bruised heart could heal  

And believed that in this house of bricks,  

No more hurt would life ever inflict. 

But that's not how life turned out to be. 

Denial numbed everything else with the pain 

And sitting inside that house for years feeling safe 

I turned into a stranger I could barely recognise. 

And as the lies further strengthened those walls 

My bruised heart could feel nothing at all. 

I began to see how this seemingly wise escape 

Had demanded the price of my vulnerability. 

Cladding me with a rusty iron armour to protect

But in reality, hurting my scarred skin even more.  

And it's true that the tears did stop for a while,

But with that also stopped the hugs, the smiles.  

Finally my head and my heart could bear it no more 

The armour was cast aside and with that

Once more I felt the pain, but I also felt the love 

- not a bad bargain!

And though it's scary, yet all the same  

I am slowly learning to shed these lies of mine 

And for now a house of straws will do just fine. 

#23: a new world

The sky is a canvas 

My paints are the sea 

Both limitless in themselves

And calling out to me. 

My paints are the sea 

In hues of green and blue 

And calling out to me, 

To see the world anew. 

In hues of green and blue

Despite the darkness around 

To see the world anew, 

Where hope can still be found. 

Despite the darkness around 

We need to get past the lies and hate

To where hope can still be found, 

There a new future awaits

To get past the lies and hate

Let's join hands now you and I 

For there a new future awaits

where our canvas is the sky. 

(Prompt - Pantoum) 

#22 Sisterhood

Life's been as blessed and joyful as it should

Ever since I've been in this circle of sisterhood. 

 

This is not how it all began for me, in fact

I was taught to distrust women - their words and their acts. 

Strong clear lines that I heard patriarchy speak 

"Women kill their strong, men only kill their weak"

"Never trust a fair woman - she has many a vice"

I confess I did buy into these senseless lies. 

Until as the years passed, to my surprise I found, 

I got to where I did, thanks to the strong women around.  

Women who spoke their truth as they walked their path, 

Women who trusted their intuition, who lead from their heart. 

These sisters of mine, with whom I could share my laughter, my tears

Sisters who bore witness to my boldest dreams and darkest fears. 

I found them in every city, every street, every bend, 

These women who welcomed me as their sister, their friend. 

 

And the reason that today love and courage I don't lack 

Is because I have these incredibly amazing women at my back. 

(Prompt : write in couplets) 

#21: As Times Change

Many a day I have spent on shelves,

In all her homes, from her current one to her past

My bright red spine a clear reminder

Of the stories, the adventures I hold

Long forgotten tales waiting to be told.

And though many more books have come and gone,

To her, I am a memory of the times

When simple stories, with clear morals

Was just what would suffice to make sense

Of dilemmas, of challenges that seemed too intense.

But that was from a different time.

Life now seems to be a lot more complex

With many rights and even more wrongs

As she struggles to find some answers, some hope,

In the fleeting images of life’s kaleidoscope.

In the confusion and the weariness that now prevails

I have been a witness to her struggle with words

When she writes, when she speaks

And of late even when she thinks

Of ways and means to fill the missing links.

Last month she picked me up one last time

Seeking comfort as one might in a tattered quilt

But when one has lost one’s own voice and speech

No authors’ words or lines would ever

Deliver any meaning, no matter how clever.

While it’s been hard to say goodbye

To the shelf, to those hands that held me with love

It does make sense that she now seeks solace

In a box of dry pastels, 20 shades no less

Offering her the potential to sort through the mess.

I can see now she is making space

In her life, on her desk to find time to play

With colours, more than words unlike the old times

Tiny doodles making way to art on A3 sheets

That's perhaps the place where confusion and clarity meet.

And though I am resigned to a future in a second-hand store,

Not sure when I will find a friendship like hers,

I do wish that over time, the colours you hold

Will help her escape from words that bind

And march forth with hope, leaving despair behind.

(Prompt : A letter from something I have thrown to something I purchased recently) 

#20: In Response to Kathua

The reactions on Facebook, Twitter and the news

Everything spoken so far or left unsaid

Are all staring at me like a massive collage

Painted in deepening shades of red.

My head says this is the time to speak up

what the powerful and the powerless need to hear

I know anger, rage, courage are the right things to feel

but right now, all my heart feels is fear.

For how do you survive a society that uses

politics, religion and patriarchy to build confining walls?

A society already fractured by a line that someone once carelessly drew

Lessons from that bloody history clearly forgotten by all

And when history falls short, maybe myth is the antidote

As my instincts tell me to gather the women, all our girls

And go looking for a place where the earth splits open

Hopefully leading us all to a safer world.

A world where justice is not auctioned at the doorsteps of the powerful

A world where we speak of responsibilities that privilege brings to our boys and men

A world where our colour, our food, our gods don’t divide us

A world where we don’t ever fail our daughters again.

I don’t know how many more beastly acts and deaths there need to be,

Till creating such a world will be a shared quest

But for now, my daughter and I walk hand in hand

As we make our way to our street corner protest.

(prompt ABCB rhyming scheme)

#19 Poetry with my name

Vignette of my life 

Inscribed in the days  of this month sliding  by 

"Jumbled words from a forgotten script 

Jostling to find their space in the sun 

Inadvertently creating poetry!"

   

#18: Hold your breath

Take a nice deep breath

And hold it in 

As you start counting backwards 

From 30 nice and slow. 

29....28.....27

You will find yourself deeply 

In focus

Brimming with confidence 

That this is child's play

But wait till you hit 20

(Go on try it - I know you want to)

That's when the head will swallow the body whole 

With all its regrets and rant, 

Of how you never are enough 

adding to the suffocation 

So much so that you start to wonder if you will be able to breathe again at all

15...14....13

Is where the heart kicks in 

The strong beats drowning the brain's rant 

Every inch of bronchi in your struggling  lungs 

Beginning to appreciate the wonder of life. 

And perhaps you've reached to an 8

Or a 5 or the impressive 1 

When without your willing the diaphragm will do its trick 

And all the shrinking will dissolve as the breath gushes back in. 

And the body starts to flow again 

Deeply grateful for that burst of air  

That's what gratitude feels like

Not so much as the rains that cool the sun-seared lands 

But more like petrichor

The gentle smell rising in the air just after the first showers

An even gentler reminder that 

Even in your smallness, in your insignificance

You have your place in something big. 

And for now - You are enough.  

#17: Random Musings 2

From a blissful smile to an ecstatic laugh –
There are fifteen different emojis on my phone for feeling good
And then there are three times that number
When I check emojis for junk food

The disproportion make complete sense to me

For I've done the math

It's 15 raised to 45 times

that I have given into my urge for comfort eating.

The heart feeling satiated

while the rest of me takes a beating.

I don't know any other way to fill  

This bottomless pit I feel inside

That's been carved out by the disappointment

Of each failed attempt I have made

to change my relationship with my body

Only to drown in disgust that drenches my very soul. 

With violations from random strangers I meet.

I guess it's not just on Halloween

that monsters walk these streets.

But for now the nightmares seem abated

As I triumphantly sit

With sticky fingers, tongue slick with oil

in this self-built shrine decorated with empty food wrappers

Knowing fully well that by the end of the day

This body will feel like that

Enthusiastically carved pumpkin

left to rot at the doorstep.

(prompt words - pumpkin, nightmare, emoji)

#16: Home

‘Is this what home looks like?’

Her eyes seem to ask,

As she takes in this new, strange space

That she has so trustingly walked into.

Willing to accept two perfect strangers

Hoping to be her imperfect parents.

For two years she's been told a day would come

When someone would come to take her home

And we've been told she's is ready.

Ready? 

I don’t even know what that means

For though I know I've wanted this all along

Will I be all that I need to be

As the tides change for both her and me? 

For many a times, I have stood on these shores

With open arms welcoming the rolling waves

Only to watch them casually wash away the sand castles

Hopes crashing again and again

Until the day we met her.

Has she ever been to a beach before I wonder

Does her mind know of the polarities the waves hold

Gentle and yet tough

Does her heart grasp how I feel now

- at once confident and unsure.

And I watch her, too afraid to breathe

Her deep black eyes shy yet curious

Her movements tentative yet in control

And though she is so small,

slowly and surely claiming her space in our lives.

And I remember to breathe again

as I gently hold her in my arms,

'This is our house, my little one - made of sand and stone,

And with you here today, it finally feels like home.'

#15 : (Your favourite show)

“You’ve got to follow these rules if you want a good life”

“Your future is linked to his – you are his wife”

“You need to get your act together – what will society say”

“Hold your chin up and a big smile – come what may.”

“Stop being a dreamer – money is what matters”

“You got to focus on settling down –your mind is so scattered”

“Why would anyone want to take their chances with you?”

“Is THAT what I am supposed to say when people ask what you do?”

“Just do what makes them happy, and you’ll be fine”

“You better know your limits – don’t you dare cross the line”

She’d be prisoner enough to these voices – no, not any more

Whose Line is it anyway, she thought, as she walked out that door.

#14 Scars

I vividly remember the first one I got on my head,

Coming back from kindergarten, as I fell face down

A four-year-old flying across the home playground.

While I don’t remember the blood and pain,

I do remember sharing the tale over and over again

As I sat in class with my buddies all around,

Wearing the iodine-stained cotton - 

Less like a bandage, more like a crown,

Being applauded like a brave warrior by my friends.

As they admired the scar peeping out where my hairline ends.

Over the years, the wound has healed, 

those friendships didn’t last

But that scar, it’s still lies there, a dead remnant of that past.

Instead of narrating the tale, I try to cover it now.

Over time, pride has transformed to embarrassment somehow.

And that’s true for all the the other scars my body holds

They might be hoping that their stories get told

But all I do is silence them all the time

With flowing clothes,

Or any overly cheerful, “of course, I’m fine!”

Only to sometimes peek at them in the darkness of the night

For each of them feels like a terribly ugly sight

A painful reminder to the times the other didn’t care

Or of times when I did dare

To take a leap of faith, certain I would fly

Only to come crashing down,

my fall broken by those dreams lying on the ground.

Over time, these scars have become strong boundary lines

Unyielding, ruthlessly, separating your pain from mine.

Somehow each one convinced that we are the only ones that are broken

While the cry for help, for connection remain unspoken.

Each day, I engage in this charade of normalcy

Trying to convince my bruised heart to hold on to this fallacy

But the heart, seems to want to break out from this bind

Desperately hoping that someday we will find

The courage to uncover these scars and tell their tales

Ready at last to push back those veils

And fully see each other –

as both bruised, and brave.

#13 Ode to Something I love

She stretches her branches at the eve of spring
Like a quiet, magnificent queen
Holding up garlands of delicate lavender blossoms
An unlikely hue in scanty canopies of green.
Almost as if to tempt the season of love
To stay a little longer in these loveless concrete jungles.

Otherwise she stays discreet through the year,

One among many in the harem of urban trees.
But proudly claims her spot in the sun,
gently dropping her blossoms in the mild summer breeze
Offering her welcoming shade to passersby
To salvage their dreams melting in the ruthless cityscape.

Oh magnificent jacaranda standing tall!

Not only are you the beacon of new beginnings
But that gorgeous carpet you spread on our drab streets
Lays there patiently, marking
The melancholic celebration of endings too.

#12 Random Musings

Life seems to be wrapped in timelessness
As one day flows into another day
Besides the changing shadows the sun casts
Everything else is just draped in greys.
I go through the motions
Like a well oiled robot
Moving skilfully across the patterns
the light beams cast across the floor.
And though outwardly it all seems fine,
unlike a robot,
there is this beating heart of mine
That's slowly but surely sinking into despair,
Desperately searching for adventure in the shadows.
Yes, I know I have responsibilities
They are programmed in my DNA. 
How can I ever forget!
So, it’s not an epic hero's journey I seek
Just little nibbles to cope with the tedium that's set
A bit of Adventure not more than
the specs of mozzarella tossed on pizza on that cheat day.
Or like thin anklets hugging feet that have forgotten to dance.  
Or for as much of time that the air is filled with the burst of the cuckoo's notes
before it is silenced by the cacophony of the crows.
Or just as much as the tiny sliver of the moon in the summer skies
before it is swallowed by yet another amaavas night. 
Surely an adventure that little will not disrupt 
this tedious, unending routine to which I must conform
But who's say how little little really is
For after all, a butterfly fluttering its wings somewhere, 
Is known to cause a storm. 

#11: The Curtains Close

The curtains close at their will

Or perhaps when Grandfather Time pulls the string.

Though this holds true for each of Life’s act,

No one ever let’s this secret out

When you first step on life’s stage -

The lines all rehearsed,

Your mask, your costume all in place

As you take the spotlight for the part you believe

You were born to play.

And over the nervousness, the stage fright

You believe you will be the star of the day.

But that never happens,  

You leave your act incomplete

For the curtains close at their will

Or perhaps when Grandfather Time pulls the string.

And though now you know this as the rules of the stage  

You show up

Hoping that perhaps this time

You will get to fully deliver those lines

The expressions, the moves in perfect sync

With every co-actor sharing the stage with you

And you believe

Each shot you take will be given a fair chance

Each handshake of yours will meet a friendly smile

Each apology accepted by a forgiving heart

But the child's ignorance is simply replaced by the adult's denial

As that never happens,

The exchanges rarely feel complete

For the curtains close at their will

Or perhaps when Grandfather Time pulls the string.

And in the darkness that befalls on us all,
complete confusion prevails,
With muddled lines, missed cues
and notes in discordant scales.
But we persist with the act, replaying each exchange 

Over and over again, like the hamster on his wheel
Constantly moving, yet going nowhere at all.
But perhaps this is what Life's act was meant to be
Persevering in the darkness hoping for the dawn
For no matter what, the show must go on
Even if the curtains seem to close at their will
Or when Grandfather Time pulled the strings. 

#10 - 5 tips for a healthy heart

5 tips for a healthy heart

It was her heart that finally did her in

Just like that, one July evening,

It just stopped beating.

How could it happen like this?

It didn’t make any sense at all

She was in a hospital with

every doctor, every device at her call.

She had the checkups,

the measured, low sodium diet

Pills of all sizes from morning to night.

Then how come her heart never did heal

From the fears, the disappointments

No medical specialist could reveal.

In the days, weeks, months

of dealing with the aftermath

I didn’t even know where to start

To mend my own broken heart.

And through days of endless tears

And nights of deep despair,

And rants at a life that seemed so unfair

The light slowly but surely did seep in

Through my wounds, and my heart began to heal

My grief taught me precious lessons,

though they came at a great cost,

I learnt to make a new start,

even when all seemed lost.

And yet, ever so once in a while, I do wish

If together we had another shot at this

I would lean across the table and hold her hand

And say for you to have a healthy heart, here’s the plan:

1) Deep in your heart, know that you are enough

2) Go ahead, show you vulnerability – stop being all tough

3) Let go of the past – it’s not worth your time

4) Play hard and 5) love harder 

And you’ll be fine.

#9 The Alchemist

(prompt - a poem that begins with the title of your favourite book)

The Alchemist

is who I seek

Someone who holds in his hand

The secret that could transform this land,

These chaotic times we live in

The mistrust, the misgivings, 

And create a path 

so that we find our way back

to our shared humanity.

For even as I struggle

To make sense
of this insanity around 

I seek 

the science, 

the magic,
that could transform 

Despair to hope 

Fear to joy 

Tedium to adventure 

Isolation to connection 

Hatred to understanding 

Tears to laughter.

For the walls are getting higher

The cries more desperate

Only to drown in the hollow promises

from self-proclaimed messiahs standing tall. 

Only an alchemist 

could transform it all.

And even as I search

In the deepening darkness around

The sunrise reminds me

That what I seek

The science
The magic

In alchemy I won't find.

Instead I need to look

Into the heart of a child.

#8 Sunrise

They say that before the dawn

Is the darkest hour.

Is that why Nature in Her infinite wisdom

Splashes the most vibrant hues

Unabashed, unbridled across the skies

To mark the sunrise?

The way the crimson, the orange, the teeny sliver of violet

Swirl in perfect harmony over the grey canvas

So that we may remember

as we start the day,

That there is hope

And beauty

And infinite possibilities,

Despite the darkness and the unknown fears

that the night drew over us.

I must confess -

there aren’t many sunrises

that I have borne witness to.

But each time I have

The sunrise soars over me to remind me,

That there is glory in starting all over again,

And that as a child of that same wise nature,  

that brings this gift of dawn to me,

I too have the perfection and beauty of the morning sky

despite the shadows I cast.