The upturned goblet of fire, the sun kissed rim of earth,
edgy,drowning deeper, into ,the iridescent liquid gold.
The capricious winds ride high on arrogant waves,
that catch and scatter, the slanted glint.
Heaven’s canvas, crimson and wispy billowy cotton,
Of steadily gleaming specks, brighter, shinier and into them
fade away the home bound birds, farther away.
Nearer, the eager, cool water,eagerly lap at the ankles
And quickly shy away,jealously sucked in by a possessive lover.
But, anon,
the giant currents splash them back.wetting the fairer sands.
Occasionally, sea swept,abandoned mollusks,devoid of nacre,
crackle beneath ambled steps,embed deeper into the loose earth.
The roar of sea, straining at the ear drums, throb, soothing the frayed mind.
Like the bubbles of froth,that form and cease in between the toes.
Something spoke, deep within, thunderingly clear,Let go.
And dissolved in saline, washed away were the parasites
That clung on long, stifling,drawing away the soul’s very breath.
Like the pen, held a little too long for comfort,
Was it any heavier?No.
Yet that lugged heavy on the heart. Needless, all the while.
Yet that lugged heavy on the heart. Needless, all the while.
Did it get any lighter? Yes.
No longer burdened by the shackles,
A free spirit soars, defying gravity,
in a dance of liberation,rejoices.
And ,the voice speaks, again.
Like each seed, holds in it, a promise of a thousand forests.
Imprison not the spirit,in barren lands of darkened thoughts.
For it is, Born wild, Born free!
ah! brilliant! (as i interpreted/understood it :) )
ReplyDeleteVery very nice.
ReplyDeleteTxs.I shud credit the anonymous source for the quote, " Each seed holds in it the promise of a thousand forests." which prompted this.
ReplyDeleteI can appreciate the strength of what prompted you to write this. On antibiotics, I can't appreciate the poem itself.
ReplyDeleteNot sure if I could've appreciated it otherwise either...The waves and giant currents passed over my humble dumble head :)
MJ,I just put pen to paper while thinking aloud.This piece,anyways, was a prose and not poetry to begin with. Little wonder it ended up being neither(lol!)Just a thought all the same:)
ReplyDeleteHmm.it appears this poem has gone astray. It appears somewhere it looses track and gets into lot of things.Digression is bad, once something digresses, focus is lost, beauty falls asunder and in the end leaves a empty feeling. A confused feeling...like the pics posted, multiple shores are touched here.
ReplyDelete