Why Me?

I do not ask why me God?
For, I know His ways are just.
If I pause to think why things
happen in a certain way,

I’m sure I get the answers.
He is neither a puzzle nor an enigma
like we humans are, or our ways.
We say something, mean something.

His ways are direct and simple.
We just need to understand,
wait till the fog clears.
There is no better well-wisher than Him.

He is after us till we get His meaning.
How patient He is! How concerned!
So I’d rather ask why not me God?
Lead me to a world without malice,

where love and truth alone rule my life.

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Why Me?

Whisper a melody

I am drawn to her melodic whispers
irresistible, endless and enchanting.
With my vision clear and my hearing
distinct, I envisage her eternal dance,
lost forever in her paths of splendor.

The spring in her feet unravels the charms
of flora, her youthful blush fills the world.
With gushing falls and crystalline streams
ringing like silver bells on her elegant anklets,
she soars like a fairy singing of joy and hope.

Her priceless, plentiful, blessed bounty shines
in splendor, in the bright sun of warm summer.
A  lilting tune of maturing love and sweetness
spreads; sunlight conquers darkness and disease,
blesses all with the boon of health and happiness.

In the velvety nights of rain-washed skies
studded with the heavenly gems of eternal
exquisite effervescence, and in the mild light
of cool and contented days, her melody floats
on the soft and silky wings of gentle winds.

She lounges in the autumnal fields, under the
canopy of a colored spectrum that extends
from horizon to horizon strange and ethereal,
like the ambience of a much awaited twilight
at the end of a long, long journey through

the ups and downs of vales, hills and dense forests.
She, my Mother Nature rests silent and subsumed.
She whispers a melody that pervades the fields of snow,
lulls the world to dream about another beginning marked
by the Divine Advent, aspirations for a New Year full of love.

Whisper a melody

I am not perfect

 

 

Your rhythm is fine, poetic thought excellent,

Whatever happened to your rhyming talent?

Imagery is out of the world, flow is fluent,

Word order however, wrong message sent.

 

Trying to get the right focus, real perspective,

I inserted a few figures to be more effective,

Made a few more changes in places respective.

A critic told me it is still dismal, unproductive.

 

I wielded my pen like a sword this time.

Went on a rampage with words to rhyme,

Missed on the rhythm, verses don’t chime

In the end I pleaded with Muse sublime.

 

She patted me, looked at me in deep effect,

Said, “It is ridiculous to want to be perfect.

For, if you are perfect you can’t ever reflect,

Or strive to do better, and can never connect.”

 

Ever since those benign words did affect

I stopped feeling sad because I am not perfect.

 

 

I am not perfect

Be like nature

Be Like Nature

Fly like a kite
Rise like a wave
Shine like a ray
Move like light.

Go, go, go;don’t stop
Be cool, be hot
Be delicious
Be endearing.

Make the world
A partner to hold
Give all your good
Let joy be the food.

Build life with a smile
Never give way to vile
Do not lose heart to rile
Nor be taken by false style.

Love all
Be loved as well
Tears and sympathy
Only for the worthy.

The universe is your wherewithal
Share the banquet with one and all
Nature makes life a never-ending carnival
Where fear and fury have no place at all.

Be like nature

What love means to me

 

What love means to me

Is something that moves

And stays with me alone

The love that I know of

Is but a small fraction of

A great, encompassing entity.

 

It’s an impulse that suspends

Other thoughts and reasons

It’s beyond the pale of ordinariness

Yet, thrives and accomplishes

In our ordinary, common lives.

 

Shining like a star, it shows

The way out of inner darkness

It fills my heart and soul

And the spirit within

With overflowing joy.

 

Love makes me cry

For no reason at times

It inspires to smile

And pushes me to get

A smile in response.

 

It binds me to others’ lives

Excludes malice and prejudice

Removes ego and self-consciousness

Love to me, is the driving force

Behind my strength, my integrity.

 

A life without love

Is a shell without spark

A land gone wasted.

It’s the breath of existence

Vital source of spiritual subsistence.

 

 

 

What love means to me

In a crowded room

The long wait for a flight
In a crowded room.
Present vanishes.
Self insulated.
Noise fades,
Mind rises,

Travels backwards,
Forward at will
Remembers,
Relishes,
Regrets,
Longs.

The beauty of the places,
People and things,
The difference,
The milieu,
The time,
Space.

The greetings unbidden,
Smiles, the curtsey
The nods, wishes
“Be back soon”
“Love you so”
“Miss you.”

Summer-fest on the tree-lined lane.
Oils, watercolors, filigree,
Food, bonhomie, drinks.
‘Water for the elephants’
‘Inheritors of loss’
Book clubs.

John and Kim, family friends.
Love of dresses, colors,
Indian ways, Namaste,
Quiet quintessence,
Lotus eyed looks,
Radiant eats.

Home again
To love, to live
To breathe in the sea,
The mountains, sage-like.
Innocent, ignorant, enlightened
Masses, their patience unduly exploited.

The conscious
Hovers, searches
For a meeting point
Between the past, future,
Love, hate, contempt, praise
Looking for harmony in a crowded room.

Lines: 48

In a crowded room

Voices

 

Voices surround me in a thousand ways

Some melodious, some melodramatic

Some reach out-touch a chord

Deep down in my heart

Urging me to keep in touch

To focus, to tell all.

 

Dawn is dotted too with bird song

Sounds at different levels, persistent,

Persuasive to get me out

Of the unnecessary languor

To move, to love, to touch and hear

And to talk, free of rancor.

 

Some tense me and some tease

And thrill, for, life is indefinable

Nor straight jacketed

In voices lightly dark, dark and bright

Some strange and muffled

Yet differently reflected

 

Voices in nature fill

The world of men and matters

And creatures not all known.

Voice- a boundary of thin chords

Between now, never and ever

Gets slowly crucibled

 

Into an inner sound of silence

Penetrating, pulsating, permeating

An inexplicably ennobling Voice.

Voices