Posts Tagged ‘journey’

It’s often, quite often, now I pause among the unending roads;
Someone told it would end someday, without any whisper.
From the steps across the green acre, she would descend,
She would run again to me, or wait under an umbrella shade
At the same crossroad, where we could not then bid farewell.

Like a mad, old man, I fought against every wind that crossed,
And tossed my hair, among nights without stars or the moon.
I often looked at the window, even when hands were engrossed
with paints, brushes and bruises over the linen woven long back.
Who says death is an end, who says marriage is being together?

I often see the boy from my innocent days, counting the stars,
Hoping the moon will stay forever and then again looks alone
Into my eyes and say, ‘I see the moon in your eyes’ and harps
To convince am him, to repeat that it all was written by none,
But time wished this soul to find that memories are not wars.

Let time be born again, let darkness lead itself to light again,
Let every stroke when I paint declare, love alone will gain;
For it gives all that it has, for it leaves all that it holds so dear,
I wish when we meet again, I see you smile and me in tear.


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How in a moment, everything ends, everything in a breath?
Everything we made, we hoped, we promised in these years,
And then all leaves in a spur to that mired and muzzled woods.
Am like that ancient moment, now sitting and looking at faith,
The one that lives inside me and says ‘now no more tears.’

This stone is so cold now, like a spring dumped by winter,
This air is so honest to tell, time has come, yes it has come.
No urge, no fear, but like a monk will walk into that darkness,
And let faith hold my finger again and lead so swiftly hereafter,
With the small little light, that still I am, I will someday be home.

That gratitude, our ancestry taught through the realms they lived,
I now pass it over to you, for many more will come even after.
Someday, when you are alone again, you will only find me so near.
I will go now with my paints and nothing more, to colour that sky,
Dip my fingers again, into that smiling stream, and bid goodbye.

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I felt the feather so close today, as in a whisper will tell
the road from here, the land beyond this sky and to sail
in the frozen air where no heart can breathe more love,
but in this silence, in the darkness find my stars to move.
Among the frozen worlds we know, we seek each other,
More than the slipping words and humming lips bother
To sing again that song, count again the stars and dream
The white and cold flowers and the old veins like a stream.

They will always tell am weird, I tell they are all the wood,
No life they see in these echoes of the green or in the blue.
What profit has all wealth ever done, what more they could,
Than filling the hunger lost in darkness and salmons for true.
I saw the dust fly and settle on every moment as love bloom
Like an untouched tulip field greet the air again to greet you.
This man will come again to that shore where you will reach
And take you over the waves, till tides turn and kisses you.

I will bleed like that ink again for our poem to come true,
Over leafless boughs to see again those leaves in cold dew.

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Nothing remains, nothing that we feel, we know,
Yet we men, like a bundle of dust, feel like a storm.
Who bothers to count the waves through the years?
Who holds the breath and journeys into the light?
No wealth, no world can ever bring joy as the tears
That roll from the eyes of a served soul in the dome.
No beauty is as beautiful ever, as the love’s glow.

What perturbs doesn’t lead to peace or the path,
But runs in the realms of being born so many times.
What height will our crafted dreams touch in the dark,
If not water the oak or paint the sky full of stars?
Read this verse only to yourself, the world will hark,
If our silence now doesn’t mean, nor will our rhymes.
With gratitude will all leaves fall at the wind’s birth.

Pause now! The paradise is here in every deed of love.
Who dies, who lives, who can write forever to prove?

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I wish every verse of mine is written on stone,
In a land that no men ever ventured with fear,
But in search of an infinite love, an endless air
That brings warmth to every old and cold bone.
Desire that mind will ever drape and will smear,
Will lead your soul nowhere but to a dark land
Full of agony, full of trepid testaments in hand.
In love there isn’t any doubt, but a windy tear.

Who will awaken if not those moments of truth,
A parting soul, a perfect poem, a poised tune?
Pause, not look behind nor listen the uncouth,
If love not makes you a hermit under the moon
These meters are fake and rhymes are a dry moan,
Like vessels to float with every waves in brown.

Someday you will listen to this flute when alone,
And mocking birds making their trip to a hill down
Someday, when you come back again to these verse,
Even the heart will like a dreamy puppet rehearse.

When you are done, when you are sure and all grown,
Let love alone guide you, let the soul be all alone.

We are the love, we are the faith and the prayer.

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Life after life, after every known death,
I will be here again among your breath.
Like a rolling reel, it will all perhaps pass,
But I will be beside you in every dance.
We are not bothered, we are not away,
We are somewhere midst of a lovely day.

Who says we are parted, who likes to walk
Alone in a forest where emptied souls talk
Partly in fear, partly in tear, smiling at hope?
We are not miles, but moments away now,
The thought of falling leaves from a bough
Where winds of change forever will grope.

Let our pursuit gather more courage ever.
Let our souls in love keep the faith forever.

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Among the thistle under a purple sky and a cotton-like cloud
After an untimed rain, the petrichor, the path leads in quiet;
The crowd moves on, the wind beneath stares, screams aloud,
The reasons of our ruin, the darkness before the soul’s light.

Who waits in this rush, who whispers peace for lives bound
By reason of gathering all things that do not stay even right?
Dream is for the desolate air; a solitary soul walks the ground,
Only to breathe freedom now from this fear of fusion and fight.

That mirror is blurred, that chord is strangled among our pleas,
He who stands untouched by time is our soul and not the trees.

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