Saturday, March 17, 2018

Dots

From dotted lines to dotting the I’s
The whole story is laid out.

One with dreamy eyes
and one,
wanting the dreams to realize.
I get it.
And I trail off. . . . .
Again.

I want that too.
Except I want clarity first.
Which of my dreams do I want to realize ?
I have a few.
Which I’s do I want to dot ?
Which ones are just exclamations… masquerading like I’s ?
I must be honest.

I have to ponder..
Procrastination.. that is how it may look like
But it is not, at least for me
I want to really listen to my soul
And I am not in a hurry.

We will dot the I’s and cross the T’s..
Until then.
Let’s read between the dots.
While one dot ends a sentence
One more next to it keeps the story moving
. . . . .
If you join the dots
You will get the picture.

Scoopful

Words..Poems..Painting..Songs.. Pictures
From the projected metaphors of my existence
I gather a scoopful of my identities.

I watch as they melt in the sultry monsoon heat
Uncertain about the form
They mingle

First the colours run ..then the form
I feel, the joy the hurt the sadness the exhilaration the anger
Of each of them.

I struggle to find words
corresponding to this experience
of witnessing .
I am my own worst imitator.

In the end
I think
I will just be the scoop.

Rain boy

He ran chasing the rainbow
Hoping to catch it at the next turn
He was determined.
Crossed many a puddles;

Some splashed through carelessly
Some carefully jumped over.
he ran
and missed
The many many little rainbows
That were right there at his feet.
Strewn abundantly across the puddles

He cried.
and so did the rain
If only.

In or Out

The notion holds hostage - true freedom exists the stage;
The prison guard feels free - and the prisoner inside the cage;
When he is the one who can get out - but the trap of ego, is just a lot.
Inside a prison - everyone’s caught
The prisoner, the guards
and the rest of the lot.
It’s time to reset the stage
Come out of the Prison - not just the cage

In a class of my own

A day in a class of my own.
I went running today. It was cold and I felt it.
I noticed the baby green and pink leaf
And was reminded of the tenderness of the tree protecting it.
As I stopped to say hello to the little black moth that randomly came and sat on my shoe.. I caught myself feeling care and admiration for the little ones courage.
In that moment as I looked up The blue of the sky softly dropped into a slightly deeper shade.
I saw a crow feeding off a dead rat by the road side and wondered if some parts of the rat became the food that kept the crow alive, humm.. did the rat really die??
And I remembered the plant in a large diesel store a few weeks ago that managed to turn all its leaves to face the door from where the sunlight came in, in anticipation., celebration.. maybe?
I ‘found’ a t-shirt left for me on my bed , that no one got, just when I really wanted it..I found out later that a couple of years ago I had bought it and forgotten. And ‘magically’ it resurfaced just when I needed it. Silly me.
I smile to myself as I take a deep breath and look up and for the briefest moment see everything almost like its the first time.
I leave and walk ahead.. with a little bit of the tenderness, the fresh new feeling, the courage, the wonder of death, a dollop of feeling silly and full of gratitude, of ‘Magic’, the willingness to move towards what is of value…stuck to me like fairy dust.
If there was a way to see it I am sure I had patches of green blue red shimmery gold…. black stuck to me. I looked different. I felt different
I ask myself where is this true in my life. There was no meaning ‘hidden’ anywhere..it was all right there. contemplation was just seeing that this is what I was seeing.. Nothing deeper. Lighter was somehow a new level of deep. The rest of my day would have shades of this lens perhaps…
And so I was the cause and I was the effect. I attracted and created experiences . They are not happening to me. I participate fully like I have in the past and future. Why, I don’t often know. and so ..I ask - how is this my creation. And what has the future wiser 2.0 version of me created this for ?
Karma for me therefore if no longer Cause and effect. But being the cause in the matter… I feel like the universe must feel ..
As I turn back..homewards , I marvel at how much I can learn from me..when I don’t run away from me.When I am not afraid of me. When I don’t make it about the 1.6 me.
I am the teacher and I am the student. I can only learn about me from me.

The Alchemy of Pain

I looked Searched. Everywhere.
Under the bed
Behind the curtain
Between the folds of your clothes
In the crack beneath the door
I even looked for it in the
Space between the wings of a dead moth.
I could not find it.

I looked at the sun, and then the moon
I squinted my eyes to see the pattern
And sometimes closed them
Trying to hold the image and somehow
Maybe push it to my heart to hold.
Nothing.

I looked
At the rings left by the tea cup
And in the texture of the crayon strokes
I was desperately trying
To understand
Your world.

I was looking
For perspectives.
That would help me connect
With you, With me

My search was beginning to get frantic
And it matched my rapid shallow breathing
That I had gotten into the habit of.

My stomach hurts from all this
I realize I need to slow down.
The piercing shaft of pain forces
My breathing to be slow..deliberate ..held
My feet to be on the ground more firmly.

And in this pain and through it
I began to see, finally.
And
Slowly.
I found it . Some unmistakeable traces of it.
In the least expected of places
Amidst the mess of the fights
In the chaos of ‘I’’s
Hidden In-between the silences
And tucked in the corner of the books
Reread with underlines
I could touch it.
With gratitude and gentleness
I could see, something
Which we still call
We.

I marvel at the gift of the pain
And the clarity it brings.
When the mind is forced
to come back to the body
and to this present moment.

The anatomy of pain , is still a mystery to me
But the alchemy
Is a gift.
I am grateful for.

Ode to the universe

For the 17th time
No
I am not arrogant .
I am not humble, you say
That is true.
I don’t think I have become that big, yet.
I may sometimes seem like that, though;
arrogant that is.
But that’s just me letting the universe handle my stuff
The Universe ..
Now IT is big.
and ;
It cannot help but;
be humble.
Hence you don’t see it
And see me
Get it?

Dots

From dotted lines to dotting the I’s The whole story is laid out. One with dreamy eyes and one, wanting the dreams to realize. ...