Tag: poem

  • This Fluorite Tower

    This Fluorite Tower

    A walk in the shop – a chance encountering.
    Of crystals, apparel, and trinkets therein.
    “Unique”, I thought and was led to see.

    It soon became clear where my focus was drawn:
    To stones arrayed in sundry sizes and forms,
    But largely it was their colours that charmed.
    To ascribe them mere red, yellow, and blue
    – or the other basic colours –
    Would be a great disservice, a travesty.

    The blend, the mix, the textures, the shades,
    Result in a palette so rich as to alarm.
    For how can nature concoct
    Such art beyond words –
    In its intricacy, colour-symphony, and – dare I say –
    Its beauty –
    If it’s left to chance’s haphazard work?

    Is it no wonder that crystals are linked
    To the spiritual realm though they be just rocks?

    A walk in the shop – a chance encountering?
    I saw, I felt, but one caught my eye.
    The luminosity of it that transfixed me so.
    Its greenish flush that seems to radiate
    Is what you could call,
    Nature’s “glow-in-the-dark”.
    Aided by man’s handiwork,
    The form that results is unorthodox.
    Body cylindrical with pointed tip
    Appeals more to me than the x-sided tower.

    A sense of awe and mystery it brings,
    A translucent green from an encasement of “frost”.
    Who knows what history that this rock contains?
    Except that it is now part of my life.
    Grateful I am to encounter and have,
    This fluorite tower,
    Luminescing Joy, a delight to hold –

    *Images Source: My Own










  • Dear Givers

    Dear Givers

    It is to you I write and to nobody else.

    Generous. Thoughtful. Sincere and Cheerful –
    Those traits you have
    In common across.

    You give, you give
    In season and out –
    Birthdays, Christmas, Festivities –
    But the ordinary day?…
    Now, that’s a surprise
    – with pleasantness, of course!

    I won’t pretend that I cherish you,
    Your gifts and all,
    A hundred percent.
    For truth be told:
    My attitude falls short
    Of Your steadfast acts.

    It is easy, you see,
    To overlook
    The familiar and constant,
    Where contempt is bred.

    Yet in moments of silence
    I muse and I see,
    That it’s no small matter,
    To receive and receive.

    For what have I got
    To warrant such grace?
    Flaws? Quirks? I have in galore –
    You know, you know –
    And still give away.

    What more can I be then
    But thankful I am:
    So thank you and thank you
    For warming my heart –
    And if that’s not all,
    – you enrich my world!

    Yes, through your gifts
    – as I would otherwise not have –
    I see, touch, smell,
    Hear and taste
    Anew and afresh
    Of the world’s good things.

    Blessed is receiving
    But more blessed to give?
    What was the Rabbi thinking
    When he said it like that?

    To give is to die,
    A sacrifice of sorts.
    But if dying is not living,
    Then how can you be
    Happy in pro-choice,
    ‘Dying’ away?

    Love perhaps –
    As sacrifice no doubt –
    Might provide the clue
    To the answer we seek –

    Or still perhaps,
    O Givers across –
    Teachers, Lovers, Family and Friends –
    That you can tell us:

    What gains you get when giving abounds?

    *Image Source: My Own



  • A Look at Eyes

    A Look at Eyes

    At life’s inception,
    I opened them –
    A fuzz, a blur, a searing blaze…
    Blinking-wriggling,
    The need to progress,
    Blinking-wriggling,
    Shades of grey,
    Blinking-wriggling,
    On light’s first meet.

    Shapes, Colours,
    Are next I saw – and movement,
    Yes, movement, here and there –
    From side to side,
    Front and back,
    Sometimes high,
    Sometimes low.
    A strange world materialising
    Before my eyes –
    Endlessly fascinating it must have been,
    But left me drained to heed sleep’s call.

    Eyes, it’s said,
    Are windows to the soul.
    To encounter another is in no way slight.
    Look eye-to-eye and you might see…

    Those haughty eyes who look down upon;
    Those cunning eyes who dart, wink, plot;
    Those seductive eyes who capture and charm,
    Eating away those unawares
    Their flesh and bones,
    All life unspared…

    Shivers. Cold. A Nightmare.

    Awake, Awake,
    Into the light!
    Expectantly look
    Into lovers’ eyes…

    “Your eyes are doves.”

    “With a glance, you ravished my heart.”

    “Avert them away, for they – your eyes – overwhelm me so!”

    –

    An abundance of love
    Expressed and felt
    In the softness of eyes
    With compassion aglow
    Assures the anxiety-laden
    Reinvigorates the weak.

    So from eye to eye,
    As with torch to torch,
    Inflame one another
    Till the brim of light!

    –

    Light is sweet,
    And to see is a gift.
    But remember also
    Of the day to come:

    When grey shades return,
    And visions go blur…

    Blinking-breathing,
    The will to survive.
    Blinking-gasping,
    Fading light.
    Shut.
    Sleep.
    At the close –

    Of light’s first meet –

    *Featured Image: My own