Wishing well

I sit here

Even as I slip

Into the darkness of grief

Thick suffocating unbearable.

I Struggle

As images from the past and future

Crowd my mind

Each demanding its space

like untried victims

Wanting to be seen, to be heard.

I am overwhelmed.

I gasp as I hear their version of stories

Surprise, shock, wonder, acknowledgement, sadness, joy, gratitude, relief

My life seems to have become a kaleidoscope

Somehow, the broken pieces of bangles make meaning

As they come together after every turn.

And bit by little bit

My own narrative seems to be shifting

Of who I was, who I am .

Who Am I?

A daughter, Sister, Niece, grand-daughter, friend, girl guide, mother, teacher…

and so many more people.

I sit here knowing its far from over

Like clouds of grey mist drifting…shifting..changing shape and form

I need to wait and let the darkness settle.

Till I see and pick up

The coins that were thrown by these people

into the dark waters

Long time ago;

With hope and faith

and closed eyes.

So that, someday,

Like today

I would find them.

And know trust again.

with open eyes.

Rhea

Redemption

I am here.
And I will also be there
Sometimes for you,
Being someone
In moments
That you will either love or hate
Nothing in between
There is no in between.. by the
way

I will be there to be the space for
you to grow
Other times
I am doing some growing of my
own
The two roles
Sometime overlap
In both our experience
And understanding

We need to
As much for ourselves as for our
world
Identify relate with and come to
terms
With the variables.

Deep inside I know why I am
here
Sometimes,
I can see it clearly.
And sometimes
My convenient ignorance
Blinds me.
So does
My clever intelligence

Decisions.
Made out of awareness, in the
present
Have a bearing on the future
In the form of consequence..
They also have a bearing
On the past
In the form of redemption.

The trick is to know..
Really know.. in your heart, body
and soul
Where past ends and future
begins.

© Rhea D'Souza

Tell me

Don't tell me how well you can speak.

Tell me, how well you can listen,

To what's not being said.

 

Don't tell me about all the hardships you have overcome

Tell me about the simple things,

That you have found difficult.

 

Don't tell me about the thunder of applause

Tell about the crumpling sound,

Of wishes broken

 

Don't tell me about the brilliance of the sun,

Tell me about the image of the moon,Not visible.

 

Don't tell me about your many friends,

Tell me about your relationship,

With you.

 

Don't tell me about all the answers that you have found,

Tell me about the questions,

That you are too scared to ask.

 

Don't tell me, what you do from morn to night,

Tell me what you do,

Just after you fall asleep.

 

Don't tell me about all the great things you have written,

Tell me about all the words, which filled the blank pages

That you were afraid to write.

 

Don't tell me what you will tell the world anyway,

Tell me

What you cannot tell yourself.

 

Rhea

Open

Do something daring

Like jumping from the skies

Diving with turtles

Or listening to your heart

Again.

Do something crazy

like colour your hair grey

Pack your bags and leave without a plan

or tell the truth.

Adventures are waiting in the wings

For you to tire out

Get drained, surrender

and then

be open.

Till

You begin the real one

Rhea

Little Bud

Tentatively it showed itself

In a place that it felt it did not belong.

The little bud..had apprehensions.

"So what if the sun burns me?", the bud asked

You are the sunflower my darling.

"What if the wind sweeps me off? "

Then fly..let the life in your pollen gift itself.

"And, what if the bee comes and stings? "

You will then soon turn to something sweet..my sweet.

But..but..

Pause.....shudder.

"What if they bury me ?"

Then remember little one.

You are a seed .

-Rhea

Illusions

The illusion of detachment

and the drama of pain.

When you were always free

You were never attached to anything ..

Ever.

Including your name.

We give up everything everyday

When we sleep,

See??

I have always wondered;

At how we create the exact same world

When we wake up

And why?

Oh!!! Mind…

What would you create, if it wasn’t for

Your need for safety of the same ?

Would you then be free?

Rhea D'souza

Stardust

No,

It didn’t make a noise

not even a whimper

when my trust broke.

shattered.

It just collapsed on itself

Like a dying star

back to it’s core

zero radius

Dense.

Silence......

I’ll wait.

the universe, after all was born;

from a dying star.

Let the cosmic dance begin.

Rhea Dsouza

Illusions

The illusion of detachment

and the drama of pain.

When you were always free

You were never attached to anything ..

Ever.

Including your name.

We give up everything everyday

When we sleep,

See??

I have always wondered;

At how we create the exact same world

When we wake up

And why?

Oh!!! Mind…

What would you create, if it wasn’t for

Your need for safety of the same ?

Would you then be free?

Rhea D'souza

Boundaries

Where angles dare

The boundaries ;

maybe missing .

Or obscured

with misplaced care.

I saw a cow pick up a slice of melon

And give it

to the crying child by the road

The one

Who was shooed away

By the one behind the wheel.

I wonder

In pain, anguish

And amazement

Why ???

Should angels dare??

Sigh !!!

Tears have no faith

They belong to no one.

They know no boundaries.

Rhea Dsouza

Moments

I make love with moments

with complete abandonment

with more 

of me

Breathe them

Fill every cell of my body, 

with them

And then,

I abort them.

It's messy, hurts.......the blue blood

I am empty once again.

Cells are imprinted ....

forever.

The  sound of empty

Is loud

and the pain is real.....and slow

Or maybe....

its the memory,

of the pain

And I know, Its time to let go

Rhea

Strangers

 

You have grown silent

Although you talk more now

Like you have to scream louder

Because of the distance

 

The stitch which held the fabric that was us

Has come off now.

And stitch by stitch...slowly

The pattern is disintegrating

 

Matter of time

Before it is threadbare

And the threads,

untied...loose....free

fly away

on the winds.

 

And we become strangers.....

Once more.

-- 

Rhea

Kaleidoscope

Colourful pieces of broken bangles

Was always facinated by the kalieodoscope

Spent hours trying to make

beautiful random patterns

And the clinking sound of it

Didnt sound like broken glass to me

Hold it against the sky

The changing beauty

at the end of dark hollow tunnel

Smile to myelf at my creation...the mirth

An amazing pattern just energed.

Have to hold still, or the pattern will disappear

Staying absolutely still.........

Am I dead ?

Revelling , marvelling , believing....or wanting to

Ignoring my aching arm, sweaty palm, the voices calling me

A different dimension, the world around

moving in a slow blur....

Time stands still.

....then the kaliedoscope slips.... .. falls

And I am, once more amidst

The debris of a broken relationship

Rhea

Anguish

He tossed and turned in bed

The current blending with the past

What was, he couldn’t see – the time lines of memory mixed up

And what he saw

Could not be spoken.

The anguish ..was stilling.

He tried to keep quiet .

He tried to speak the truth ..

Silently

Till his voice ran hoarse.

Dry mouthed....

yet;

He started speaking the truth

Spitting out the words

With traces of blood

they came out dizzy with waiting ..

and yet unfazed.

They came out defying the boundaries

Of self and others, past and present,

us and them, religion and capitalism

They.

Came out.

and

Slowly ..very slowly.

exhausted he fell asleep

Falling into a peaceful slumber

I know he was peaceful

I saw truth drooling his chin.

Rhea