Birds of the world

Birds of the world
caged, their wings unused,
abused for eons of years;
they had been taught to parrot
plastic words that had poisoned
their chirps, they sit and talk
of competition, anger, hunger,
killing, slaying, terror, war;
drowned in worries, they wryly
smile, silently cry; they do
everything that’s against their
nature, they don’t even try to fly.

The transformed world

 

You cannot know anything
by trying to know, the
experience will reap from
actions, actions will arouse feelings;
feelings will transform the world,
your body bombarded with words.

Your love

I feel your strength of love
within me, I can never be weak 
again, I see the stars shining,
I am sailing in the sky and 
in the sea, with the clouds 
and the waves; I have come 
in your boat now, I have nothing 
to be afraid of, you have shown your
light, and thrown yourself in me;
my crown seats in your throne 
now, in this unconditional grace, 
I can trust myself as a friend 
that was once my enemy.

Grace

I had fallen many times
from grace, but the same grace
had given me wings.

Come close

Come close, I want to kiss 
your inviting, juicy lips,
your eyes where I can drown,
I want to caress your forehead,
come close, so I can embrace
you; I know you were in distress,
haven’t slept since long, rest
your tired self within my willing 
arms, come close, so my eyes cannot 
see you anymore, judge you from afar, 
come close, so my eyes can feel you, 
the lonely battles you had gone through.

The all

Where can I find you?
You don’t lie in the lines!
I recite the words,
I memorize the verse;
in this ceaseless hide-and-seek
game, you are within and beyond
the uniformed letters,
you are in sound and silence
you are in the light of darkness;
Wonder how I should embrace
all, to experience your grace.

A beautiful trap

Your beauty distracts me
I want to set me free,
yet I come to you willingly
to witness my misery.

Seldom

Don’t ask me why
don’t ask me how
I wish I knew the answers
of the wonderful verse
of life, whose meanings lie
in reading, in seeking,
in belief, seldom in questioning.

The only refuge

 

History knows the game
of inventing weapons,
investing in wars, mayhem;
history doesn’t know, how
to survive without them.

Bloody fields, scarlet
with anger and lust,
yet pages speak volumes
of friendship and love.

Civilization had shown
honesty and integrity
in mindless animosities;
it had successfully failed
in all peace treaties.

I have to be hopeful still
about harmony and peace
while some are warring for pelf
and power, others are killing in
your name; history, amidst
all of this has none to blame,
it witnesses beheading itself,
hangs its head in shame.

When I sit and think as to
what could save the world
from the inevitable, suicidal
debacle; what could make history
free from wars of all kinds,
I think of you, mustering minds
to perform your magical spell,
your out-of-the-world miracle.

Feeling the universe

Oftentimes, in the goings-on,
I am in an endless search
of who this is, or, it is
that makes me unconscious,
unmoved of the movements
happening all around, within
the body I call myself, 
the mind I think is mine,
the spirit I sense, cannot see;
of who this is, or, it is
that makes me conscious
for a fraction of a moment,
of the regression of various
parts of the organs I have known
as my own; when the leaves of
the trees quiver, when the stars
rise, shine, set, and rise again,
I assimilate the experience;
the feeling in the being becomes 
me, it forms me, it bounds me,
beyond words, it sets me free,
makes me who I want to be.

All conflicts, arguments,
sense of judgements
appear like dust, meaningless;
births and deaths of truths and lies,
of days and nights, set, shine, rise
in the twinkling of my eyes;
only the feeling of completeness,
awareness of wholeness remains.

For a moment in the gap,
I feel the space, which is
also me; in time, the search
doesn't end, but it discovers,
away from the horizon of reflections
the feeling of the universe.