......

It's a burning flame cold as ice
A thirst that satiates my whole being
That puts a sparkle in my eyes
And contentment in my soul
A yearning crossed beyond the imaginable
Wrenching the heart with pain
And yet glistening it with hope
Making it bliss with boundless joy
It thrives like a wonderful being
It lives like a joyful kid
Not yet afraid of the unknown world
Not held back by its torturous reins
It's bubbling inside ready to burst
But keeping me together instead
It makes me smile and makes me laugh
And makes me cry and feel lost
Oh it surely is a precious thing
It makes me wish for more
If I'm born again, I'd want it all the same :-)

If I had Wings....

If I could fly
I'd climb up high
Into the skies
I'd dive like a bird
Into the seas
I'd flutter
Like a butterfly

Oh if I could fly
I'd roam
to distant lands
I'd float
over unseen places
I'd gloat
over the mystic silence
of the sleeping soil
and the roaring rivers

I'd glide and slide
I'd swing like a breeze
And race like a wind
I'd reach out to all
I'd touch every single soul
I'd keep going
on and on
Beyond all boundaries
Farther than all
known paths!

The Night is Blind

The night is blind
Naked in its blackness
Alluring its victims
To its mystic silence

Gray as the clouds
Stark as the truth
Standing aloft
Alone in the corner

It races past me
Amidst rising horizons
Raising my sensitivity
To the heightened senses

O sensuous feeling
Refusing to contain
Breaking all boundaries
Reaching to pain

Noone is there
The night hinges on
It moves me along
Losing all distinctions

I wait wait and wait
For the sight of the pure
But there's no more
The night is blind
As blind as me

One of My Favorites

Daisy

Where the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf,
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill--
O breath of the distant surf!--

The hills look over on the South,
And southward dreams the sea;
And with the sea-breeze hand in hand
Came innocence and she.

Where 'mid the gorse the raspberry
Red for the gatherer springs;
Two children did we stray and talk
Wise, idle, childish things.

She listened with big-lipped surprise,
Breast-deep 'mid flower and spine:
Her skin was like a grape whose veins
Run snow instead of wine.

She knew not those sweet words she spake,
Nor knew her own sweet way;
But there's never a bird, so sweet a song
Thronged in whose throat all day.

Oh, there were flowers in Storrington
On the turf and on the spray;
But the sweetest flower on Sussex hills
Was the Daisy-flower that day!

Her beauty smoothed earth's furrowed face.
She gave me tokens three:--
A look, a word of her winsome mouth,
And a wild raspberry.

A berry red, a guileless look,
A still word,--strings of sand!
And yet they made my wild, wild heart
Fly down to her little hand.

For standing artless as the air,
And candid as the skies,
She took the berries with her hand,
And the love with her sweet eyes.

The fairest things have fleetest end,
Their scent survives their close:
But the rose's scent is bitterness
To him that loved the rose.

She looked a little wistfully,
Then went her sunshine way--
The sea's eye had a mist on it,
And the leaves fell from the day.

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
And partings yet to be.

She left me marvelling why my soul
Was sad that she was glad;
At all the sadness in the sweet,
The sweetness in the sad.

Still, still I seemed to see her, still
Look up with soft replies,
And take the berries with her hand,
And the love with her lovely eyes.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends,
That is not paid with moan,
For we are born in other's pain,
And perish in our own.

- Francis Thompson

A pillar stands alone

Such a solitary figure
Tall and lean
Appealing from afar
Hardly visible from near
Yet so strong
Holding such burdens
So good to lean on
And take support
But a Pillar
always stands alone!

Sometimes....

Why is it that
When you wanna laugh
Noone laughs with you
They seem hell-bent
on making you cry

Why is it that
When you wanna cry
Noone weeps with you
They laugh away your worries

Why is it that
When you wanna be touched
Everybody seems aloof
As if they're oblivious of you

Why is it that
When you wanna talk
There's noone to listen
Noone to respond
Noone to take in your words
And nurture them inside

Why is it that
When you wanna listen
You don't hear the right words
Or you hear too much
More than you care to hear

Why is it that
When you wanna die
You go on living
And when you wanna live
Death seems so imminent!

Unknown Journey

4 months have passed.
But seem like 4 years
or may be 14.
So much has happened.
So much changed.
Yet all remains the same.
I stand here alone.
Enveloped by a crowd.
That swooshes past me.
Without ever touching.
But the vacuum surounding me
pierces me so hard.

I stand here alone.
Unable to move.
Unable to reach out.
Unable to cry loud.
My mind is frozen.
I ponder over my own existence.
Do I even exist?

No, it's all a dream.
Nobody seems to notice.
Nobody stops to look.
I'm so invisible.
I feel like a float.
Too heavy to sink,
yet too light to fly away.
And so I remain imprisoned
in my own shadow there.

I want to move on.
I want to walk away.
But my trail is undefined.
My journey too long.
Destiny's out of sight.
And so full of mist.
I hear so many noises
but can't see a single soul.
All are oblivious to me
or perhaps I to them.
So I must venture alone
on my sole journey
afraid of what to come
tired of my weary feet
not knowing where to go
yet going on nonetheless....