I AM
I am that I am
SourceLight within my Innermost Heart
unique fractal of Divinity
ever evolving spiralling ascending
deathless ageless
is my Soul
I am that I am
......
When time reveals its might,
And nothing goes right;
Be a warrior and fight!!
Howsoever be the ugly sight;
There is never an endless night.
Let the spark within become a beacon light!!
March towards the goal of greatest height,
Else future would appear bleak rather than bright,
......
I C E : Ode to Self
few Hearts can fancy dress their
nakedness in icicle Presence
fewer minds will slip into cemetery’s dusk
soul appears, no hectic heady harkening
glancing what is needed or already seeded
Insight measures wisdom, not cerebral chancing
silence answers chaos, no questions
......
Once, I peeped into the alley of human mind;
Searching for a soul with whom I could bind,
Only to find none of my kind!!
I cursed my vision for being so weak;
Not a single company could I seek;
Did it mean, I was a freak??
Stuck in the vortex of mental trauma,
Loneliness in life appeared no less than a stigma.
......
Reminiscing in a corner of room so dark,
And heart being ripped into particles of quark,
The pangs of guilt left an indelible mark!!
Betrayed by a soul in the midst of storm,
Meaning of trust underwent a rapid transform.
Somehow, he wiped off tears to assume a dauntless form!!
He lamented and mocked himself for being a fool,
As the path so taken was not that cool.
......
Glass bends,
not with force,
but with memory.
He gathered light
like a jeweler gathers time-
each shimmer
a quiet rebellion
against the ordinary.
......
An egg,
closed like a secret,
opens
not to nourish
but to astonish.
Gold curls
like smoke around enamel,
a bird waits
beneath a hinge.
......
He stitched silence
into the curve of a waist.
After the noise of war,
he answered
with softness-
petals falling
into the shape of a dress.
Lines returned
......
Porcelain dreams
rise
from stillness.
Hands shape quiet
into form-
a dancer mid-turn,
a child reaching,
a dove paused
between sky and landing.
......
A voice
not made,
but born-
from the lungs of Naples,
from the ache of longing
too large for words.
He sang
as if sound
had shape,
......