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Is it just a hue
Or
Is the mountain actually blue

The sea and the lake too
Is imbued by the sky’s blue

I love the colour too
Yes it has to be teal and aqua blue

Yellow is so bright and right
Inspired by the sunlight

Red speaks of passion and rage
Sure, I am no sage

Colours bright, dark or light
In every hue, have a place of their own
Got to love them all
Inspired by a photo of a mountain in blue hues :)
As I romp in hallways of a human body,
my time is limited before
I return to road of universe.

I partake in tasty treats to digest with smiles.
Swim in waters of emotions that wash old wounds.
Meet friends and foe to teach compassion.
Fly in dancing steps gracefully
and sing like birds to echo against ear walls.

As I move I slowly put pieces together
to understand who I am.
Recalling my purpose and divinity.
Spreading on life’s canvas as artist with paint of love.
Resting to smell the rose perfumes in air of wind.
And find doorways into heart,
where no ego lingers.

Yes as I romp. I connect
in tears that lead to rainbow thoughts.
Dreams that give abundance of breath.
Gratitude that vibrates in cells delicately.
See animals that mirror dedication
And move in playground
where God’s presence is everywhere.

Oh! what a gift journey
to gather memories inside
many a trial and tribulations.

Oh what grand humanoid experience
to process and bring back to soul.
Saw word romp and  after connecting to my poet wizard guide...a poem was born
IF
If I could drop a message in a poem,
a verse, a group of letters strung like pearls
for readers neck, I would.

I’d  mold it with stones of optimism
to ward off worry and fear.

Sting it with wisdom to integrate
the new energies for peace.

Enlarge it with songs
to rhythmically expand hearts.
And weave it gracefully so readers
old mind chatter would dissipate.

I would string its message
with pulsations so their echoing voice
would allow one to see their a divine
gift.

If I could drop a message
to show I wear the title Aviator poet of
a new conscious world proudly,
I would.
I do. I am.
Some of my poems are like little messages in bottle. They float until light and dark integrate. Until reader picks them up to awaken and remember this is a game and we have the control on how it goes.
In a marriage of the heart
poet and reader bond.
A secret matrimonial oath
is taken.
It ties knot-like commitment
to express by writer
and be read at any time
as word landscape is presented.

Sometimes judgements fly
whereby reader can’t grasp poets vision.
Normal it is for growth.
Other times it’s like a honeymoon
where smiles and admiration flies,
Normal it is for evolution.

Today I
call to those who visit
and purpose you
join in union with me,
if even for a brief time.
Join
as we marry under a canopy of HP
Just thinking about relationship between reader and poet.
Through a narrow tributary flowing down
Flanked by rustling reeds on either side
The small boat made its lonesome way
Carrying two souls from all distractions

The current was dotted here and there  
With floating masses of water hyacinths
With lavender blossoms peeping through the green
That drifted to and fro as the boat made its way

Pleating gentle curls in the water’s swell
The boat moved, carrying him and her
Gliding away unhurried and unrushed
Over the heaving crest of pure delight

As it entered the river’s wider mouth
Waves began lapping on the boat
And jets of water splashing neck high
With their cool embrace, raising the spirits

Bobbing over waves, they quietly watched
The cobalt sky hugging the mountains far
Hills looming large, with clumps of trees
And their foliage swaying in summer breeze

Before them, the river gallantly stretched along
As a flood of fluid crystal, a current of liquid light
Expressing in turn, the silent meditation of a sage
And the noisy ebullience of a naughty kid

Leaving all cares behind, on the sullen shores
Hearing the lovely chanting of songbirds
Enjoying the river’s shifting loveliness
The two entered into the river’s inner heart

As the magic moments mesmerized their senses
They knew they had found a new love
A flower suddenly blooming in the wild
Drifting them to a world sans any fences !
The road was all mud
she slipped with the drizzle
and you couldn't tell
the color she wore
but her big awed eyes
colored the land in all colors
making her lose breath
gazing at every little thing
till over the noise of lightning
boomed her father's voice
be fast girl before the rain is harder
when she would run for his hand
and slip again and again
counting fun at every fall
her eyes a glowing island
from the mud scarred face.

Once in the market
the man gave her a good wash
little knowing she was drenched
with all the dreams
eyes could ever see.
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