You, Who Watch Me

I am only beginning to know you,
Through the hot summer nights,
And the long, arid days,
The sweet sweat of your remembrance,
Plays like a song on my lips.

I do my little chores,
You follow me everywhere,
Even the food I cook,
Has a flavour of you,
I see you peeking through the laughing lines of a loved one,
 I know you love a crowd,
Days pass without a whisper from you,
My thirst knows no bounds,
It’s then I seek you out,
Wanting you all to myself,
In the nudeness of dusk,
When the lamp has just been lit,
 I find you watching me,
You, who watch me,
 Is who I am,
 I am because, you are...

A Slice of Chocolate

I yearn for a slice of chocolate cake,
Oh, I could easily kill for it,
Rich in cream and sinful to taste,
If a river were to flow by my house,
I would sit by the river,
On the wet green grass,
And let the bitter-sweet flavour of cocoa,
Remind me of a time,
When the cake was much was more than a cake,
And how it would turn into the sweetest kiss,
With the cream running down my chin,
Deft fingers licking away at the crusty remains,
A deep fulfilling sigh would escape,
Ah, the simple pleasures of life,
That neither fate nor man can rob me of.

Marigold

I drink from the river of life,
I am drunk,
It takes a madness of the soul,
To see a marigold,
As the epitome of creation,
In the many folds of its yellow petals,
Shies away the life force,
Quietly summoning passers-by to stop and stare,
As the music of silence carries away the din,
Ah, the beauty of breathing freshness,
Of bliss settling deep,
The rare moment when you and I become the flower,
That God intended us to be.

Move Nigh

Silence arrived this morning,
I am filled with it,
Now what?
The eyes are watchful in sleep,
And the limbs move nigh,
Even the prayer has left the lips,
How am I to live in this stillness?
I only know the onslaught of words,
This new place is too quiet,
The poet is lost.

My Place

I wish, I didn’t have to wish so often,
For the simple pleasures of life,
That most people never miss,
For all the sanguinity,
There are moments in time,
When the very vastness of existence,
Belches and burns,
Oh, so many regrets,
Churning in the dark pit of this heart,
When will I learn,
There are no great escapes,
From the prison of this birth,
In the many seasons, unbidden,
A tear will roll out,
To show me my place,
Can I ever really crawl out that far?
Or a silent something,
Will always be waiting, watching,
To laugh at the choices I made,
If they really ever were,
Now, I think differently,
I ask,
Why wishes have to be spelt?

I Wish I Didn't Dream

If I’ll have to live with my dreams forever,
When will I close my eyes in peace?
Like a mother exhausted from tending to her baby,
Waking up at the slightest sound,
Stifled by the quilt of darkness,
Yearning for an hour of restful sleep,
I, too, know no peace,
The dreams are lucid,
Vivid,
Long and short,
Of the dead and the living,
Strange is the landscape,
Like a poorly shot horror film,
Yet, I laugh often,
Walk about,
Pleased to see papa, once in a while,
He never says anything,
Too bad, it might have helped...


Lately, I can tell I am dreaming,
But I can’t wake up,
As if the ‘I’ has abandoned the body,
I wonder then who is dreaming?
The body lies comatose,
The mind now has a mind of its own,
It’s unnerving.

Have you been caught in a dream?
One that has no middle, no ending,
It steals from me,
Drifting in and away like the fog,
Leaving me tired and lost,
In the wild forest of dreamland,
From where the walk back home is long,
When I finally wake up in bed,
It’s as if I never slept.

In life as in sleep,
Dreams push us,
To achieve, to do more,
And life is spent chasing that extra,
Couldn’t I have simply laid back and snored,
Lived in the ever renewing now,
And savoured the movement of breath,
The ‘so’ of inhaling and the ‘hum of exhaling,
Why do I let the moment of awareness drown,
The consciousness by travelling to places,
Where the ‘I’ is robbed of meaning, of being.

Piano On Sabbath

The quiet magic of Sabbath,
Is like a piano playing softly in the background,
To which you can listen for hours,
And hum along like the Humming bird,
Soaking in the sun,
Her tiny heart beating with the warm afternoon breeze,
Saying, ‘I live, I love’,
‘I sing for Him,
Who smiles from above’.

I AM CHANGE

I am a powerful creature,
Great strength lies in my DNA,
My genetic makeup,
The whole of creation is about change,
Spring, summer, fall, winter
The circadian rhythm,
The Tidal principal,
The twenty-eight day cycle,
I am born of change,
And yet, I cannot hope to transform,
The environment, politics, economy,
Or the rigid mindset of billions,
By merely speaking of change,
What can I change around me?
It must begin with me,
In me…

In facing my fears,
To find the strength to be a Gandhi,
The empathy to be a Mother Teresa,
The bravery of all those nameless soldiers,
Little known martyrs,
Who knew that the tree of greatness,
Rises from a tiny seed,
That can alter the fate of nations,
Of people of all colour and religion,
The seed is of change,
Contained within every human mind,
It throbs, it pulsates,
To become the change,
We wish to see around.

This Blog post is for the Indibloggers, 'Time to Change' contest.
Time to Change FB Link

The Word Of Christ

If the divine order is to weather,
The winds of change,
To bow to the quaking earth,
And walk among the merciless,
Then as Christ before us,
On the cross of life,
Each offering be an act of love.

If He,
Who could walk on water and part the red sea,
The mighty and all powerful
Pick stones and abuse over a throne,
And die a death so brutal,
That in the history of mankind,
Such a man will never be found,
Then what right do we, the powerless have,
To inflict hurt by our vicious words,
And dirty our hands with our brother’s blood.

Jesus resurrected on the third day,
This brings up the question,
Why did he choose to die in the first place?
To atone for our sins,
Is what the Bible says,
The truth is probably simpler than that,
Christ’s word is that of love,
To forgive in the face of hurt,
To know the tears of another as our own,
And be true to what lies in our hearts,
It is the irrefutable seat of God,
From where he calls out to us.

Embryo of God

I feel I have been reborn,
In the same flesh,
The eyes, nose and the limbs are all the same,
But the bird of impatience has flown,
The days no longer wear me down,
Each morning I hear the cuckoo’s song of hope,
The nights are gentler,
The breeze is strong,
The glaring starkness of the dark is gone.

I hear the tinkling laughter,
And the voice is mine,
I see the feet move,
And the dancing ballerina is me,
I think back to the time when I was poor,
And wish I had learnt to laugh and twirl,
And death would have been easy on me,
But the sweetness of being born anew,
Is like seeing for the first time,
That I am smaller than a speck of dust,
And larger than the whole universe.

In my mind’s eye, you and I are all but separate,
Joined together at the hip,
If I decay, you wither away, too,
And if I rise from the infamy of weakness,
You too are resurrected,
Into the embryo of God.