October Wind

It rose,
Suddenly.
Uninhibited
Unbridled
Unchecked
Unfamiliar

And spread
Like warm honey
Effortless.

Not holding back
Not asking for permission
Unapologetic
Celebrating the courage

Loud for words,
Quiet for the world.

My eyes wet, with wonder
Breath held pregnant
Mind deliciously suspended

I felt it.
I felt Shy.

Water

I was the wind
Once

Going where ever I felt like
Carrying grains of stories
From one place
To another.

Sometimes gentle
Sometimes a whirlwind

Flirting with tree tops
Changing my mind and direction
on a whim
Not caged
Of no fixed address
I was Free.

Then I grew up
And became fire

I was angry
And believed in the myth of Independence
And self righteously
Burned to purity
What I though was wrong
Creating separateness
It took courage…
I was Proud.

I stood still
The lava solidified
Became the Rock.

Made peace with the wrongs
Consolidated
Reached some ”conclusions”
Created an identity
Gulped the tears
Hard contours
Immovable - Dependable
I was Rigid.

..and then,

One day
On the periphery of my mind
I caught a glimpse
Of the dew drop
Glistening…Still.. fragile
Immaculate.

I saw
The whole world reflected in it.

The illusion of ‘Separateness"
Started to melt

I closed my eyes
And tears flowed
Breaking all barriers

Like a tsunami
Washing away
My carefully build identity
Leaving me happily with the debris
Of what I was ..

Words start dropping
Compassion arises.

Meaningless
Form less
Identity less
And yet,

Free to be Anything.

My journey
Is now
acceptance

Holding up a ship
Slipping through fingers

Flow.
Gentle
Peace

I am water.



-Rhea 

The Wave

As I sat on the rocks..
And watched the waves
I was struck by the raw power
The resilience
The Celebration
The Journey.

The joy with which the Wave ..Rushed
To the edge
With a Symphony
With a War Cry

To End
To Break
To Begin
To Merge
With the Ocean

As I watched..
The Wave…
I notice something else
Just at the point where the wave starts to turn
On it journey towards the end

At the curl
It  turns a transparent Blue white
At the Center..
At the Heart
The Eye.. of the wave.
The spot where,
The “light” reflects
The soft bright center

Momentarily
It becomes the light.

And then
It rolls
And loses itself
Not sad
Not apologetic.
Grand…Head held high.

The churn..is all White.


My eyes
Trail at the dark grey waters behind
Pregnant ..Deep
Full of stories
The many lives this wave lived.

Silent teacher.
This wave.

Touched Deeply by..
The Unapologetic purity of its Being
The Effortless dropping of its identity
The Humble willingness to merge.

Sigh.
A Lesson in graceful dying.


Rhea.

Contemplation

If not….

To Watch the waves turn white as they crash on the shore

To Contemplate the spiders daily routine

To Know and wait for your special sparrow to show up

To Wonder if gravity malfunctioned

To Think about the conversations in a space hundreds of years ago

To Ache to know the story behind the wrinkles

To Keep discovering delightful aspects of yourself

To Stand under an open sky and gaze after balloon that disappears

To Read and be lost in the blend of the lives of the author and the characters

To Wander in a crowded city street without a thought of return

To Laugh over and over again at the same thing with the same intensity

To Marvel at the courage on the faces of street kids

To Hear in your heart what someone’s words are unable to articulate

If not for all this..
Life..
What is the point .


Rhea

Shooting Star


Outstretched hands
Face towards the sky
I stepped toward the edge
Wanting to catch the shooting star

I slipped and fell
It took my breath away.

Held by faith
Caught by wonder
Hands... still outstretched

I am the Shooting Star.

The White Trail


The white- that was not so pure
Rough – coarse
Almost invisible
Trying to camouflage
But definite.
It’s path.

On a rampage
It corroded everything
The carefree hearts
The innocent smiles
The trusting hugs
The dreams..
Of Colourful wooden tops

Left it’s taste
In the mouth
Of the future

The White of anger
Of Blind righteousness
Of Absence
Of Loss
Of Hopelessness
Of the void…
Of displaced memories

Of tears
Unshed

I look up
Surprised by the taste
of salt on my lips

I am surprised
By the intensity of pain
It’s not mine…
Or maybe
It is

The white trail
Has found it’s way to me
Across the Borders
After all.

A deep realization
A coming Home
A Finding
I am just another you.

A Silent Prayer
Escapes.
Dear God let me never forget this.

Rhea

Clarity

The clarity 
was so to the point
That is was shattering.

It cut through 
Some old cobwebs
Of dead beliefs
scrap books
And pages yellowed with 
Non potent pollen

It was at war
With voices.
Some of them
mine.

It was so sure 
Of itself
That the pattern of my breath
on the frosted window
Remained ..
Gentle
Unchanged

The scribbled names..
though...
Have Started fading

It was bright 
blinding..
To the point of darkness
I could not see
What I was used to seeing
It hurt
My eyes Too

After a period of...
Suspended 
Forcibly unfinished thoughts
Tears that had been forced into habit

It called out the bluff
Of ghost dreams
Full of form
No substance

I opened my 
Eyes..
And saw..
What was there
For a long time

Tears were set free
They rushed joyfully
To the heart.

The Shattering 
Allowed more integrity

The illusion of choice
Disappears.

3 A.M.

It’s 3 a.m.
And I don’t remember
If I woke up
Or haven’t slept.

In the hour,
That kisses,
The night and day.

Wishes to see,
and yet not.

Yearns for the dawn
and still holds on to the dusk

I sit up.
Blushing.

Faint traces of a dream
Or memory
Stick to my lips
Like an after taste
Of jaggery

I lick my lips
Slowly
In anticipation..
Careful
Not to wipe it out completely.

Hoping
This would bring back
Some details.
Some clarity
Some semblance
of sanity

The dream..
Like the taste on my lips
Flirts
Hides
Plays peek-a-boo

Shows itself 
just enough,

For me to know.

It was.
Could be.
Is.

I go back to sleep
Cradled 
In faith.


 - Rhea 

No Matter What

In between the experience and it’s lessons,
Many things get filled.
Distraction.
Delusion.
Arrogance.
Apathy.

Till one day you get tired of the old games.

In the space between No and Yes,
A lifetime passes by
Filled with..
Self fulfilled prophecies.
Other peoples Voices
Fears.
Illusion of comfort zones.

Till one day you decide to stand at the edge of a cliff and scream your Truth


In the self imposed dilemma between choices
There is..
Suspended animation
Stagnation
Slow death
Dozens of diary pages filled with "What If’s…"

Till the unadulterated clarity of your being, dissolves the illusion of choice.


Did you really believe that you could withstand
the light of your own being ?

That you would gather enough evidence to believe
you are not divine, and continue sleeping.
or pretend to?

That on this hero’s journey
You can keep on with the refusals
Till the end?

Living like loving,
Is not A because;
It’s a
No matter What.

~ Rhea

Always

There were shadows
and it was ok.
There was light
and it was ok.

There were silences
which froze in midair..
And words that stuck to
the inside of my mouth
And it was ok.

There was innocence
and It meandered
And there was fear
and It was shy
And it was ok.


A part of my soul
wants to ride the milky way
And the other just wants to
sit in the folds of my jasmine flower
And its Ok.

In the still 
boundary less Universe
With no beginning 
and no End

Everything
Is OK.

~ Rhea

Rendevous



Tears rushing
Hair tumbling
Heart racing
Cheeks burning
Blood pounding in my ears
Or was it the sea?

The wind stinging
My flushed face
Hot.

My feet kissing the ground
Fleetingly
Reminding…

My breath
Caught in my throat
Coming through a sponge of
Realizations

The Smile
that I can’t stop.
From my moist eyes.
I didn’t see this coming..

Everything else
The past .. The future
A blur

Not away  from
Not towards

I run into my arms
Joyfully.

Oh!!! I have missed you.


~ Rhea

Held

Oh it’s that time of the year
Is it the only time of the year?
When you think of me cry
Go to my grave and sigh

Do not stand by my grave
Those precious tears, save
I am not there,
I am everywhere.

I was about to say , “I told you”
But right now…
I will just hold you..

I am the new brave pink leaf
I am the Soil that smells sweet with the first rain
I am the big rabbit from your dreams
I am the dancing shadow on the wall

I am that pause, when you are undecided
I am the signs when you feel guided

I am the skip in your walk
I am the breath in your hugs

I am the conversation
That lets you come undone

I am you , sometimes
in the mirror
and sometimes
I am the voice in your head

I am the search
That lets you stretch your imagination

I am the tears in your heart
Where the world hurts

I am also your laughter.
Where the world celebrates

Know that I am ..
Always.

Because You are.
Always

Remember
Life is only a series of new beginnings..

Rhea

Coming Home

A bit musty
The air
Familiar yet
new somehow

The footprints show
the amount of dust
Settled around the steps
I had taken

I hear sounds 
amidst the silences
I look in the direction
Memories
Keep flirting with time

I smile
I don’t sigh
I am amused

Some things I had
meticulously covered
To keep them safe.
The mirror was one of them

I pull down the drape
Blue with tiny white flowers
I expect to see the same mirror

It isn’t.

I smile
Tentatively at first
As the dust starts settling
I don’t flinch

I shake the drape even more
Imagining the white flowers
come off the sheet and fly
Throwing caution to the wind


I turn my head up
This feels like stardust…
Pieces of me are settling down

I have come home.

Rhea 

Be Present

With
Eyes full of soft longing..
yet
voice hard
With the effort to stop the quiver

Heart full of gentle poetry
Yet
Head pulled a little higher..
with doubt

Arms that reach out to hold
Yet
At the end of their journey
Push away

The song that keeps playing
In the background
Yet
The silences
In the conversation

I can see you.
Your soul is transparent.

Breathe.
You have held the breath too long….
This might be the best part of that song.

Open.
Don’t settle for less
Never mind the mess

Trust.
Your worst fears are behind you
Everything you have ever lost
Is waiting for you

To be present.

 Rhea



Fragile

I held some dew drops
On a green leaf
Delicately in my palm

Awestruck
Breathtaking
Beautiful
Fragile

Balancing I walked
Tried to keep them
from falling  
Spilling
Dropping

Till,
They evaporated.

I have memories
Of seeing the world in them.

Humbled by the  
Fragile and Ephemeral nature
of what we hold
....
and of the one who holds it.



Rhea 

An Ode to the Bolero.