A state of being
Of being in the present
With a deep sense of calm
That comes from — knowing
One I conflate with faith
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
There she stood
Tall and assured
Charming but not boastful --
An energizing silence
A magnetic pull, all-knowing
Drawing me closer --
A scar I notice
A defect somewhat
An impurity they say --
She cares not to hide it
She basks in it
Pride in memory --
I come to hold her in esteem
Sets her apart
A quiet confidence --
A connection inimitable
I fondly remember
And she revels in remembrance --
A note of appreciation for my crystal friend.
Defects in crystals lend them their uniqueness. Like every person is unique to their own DNA, we too should discover and embrace our own unique gifts.
Fun Fact: Scientists have discovered Calcite Micro-Crystals in the pineal gland of the human brain. These crystals have piezoelectric properties with excitability in the frequency range of mobile telecommunications.
Perhaps our very own wireless transmitter linking us to universal consciousness.
You often spoke of frameworks as guiding principles at all phases of life.
You spoke of structures, you spoke of lines..
Lines that when crossed with mischief, called for admonishment.
Lines you drew on our exercise books to ensure homework was complete.
Lines you made so clear guarding your babies from outside harm.
Lines that parallel the lives of all mothers.
Today as I look at you, I see those lines etched deep in tireless perseverance; a reminder of your experiences.
Those lines as you age ever so gracefully, are exactly what makes you all the more so beautiful.
Comfort is nice but mundane bores
I must explore the wonders of sea
My thoughts take wings, zest soars
I set sail on my journey with glee
A crushing wave, a sudden slip
Yanking my board from under my feet
Hither tither I scramble for a grip
Boy this feels, anything but sweet
Not what I thought - no easy play
Things just aren't going my way
I look for reason, reason flees
Reason tells me meaning you’ll see
Tired of evil, tired of this ploy
I loosen my grip, I free control
In this moment, I now enjoy
The ebb and flow of the larger whole
A storm revisits, I know the drill
I'm tossed again in life's caprice
I align my will with divine will
And now I sail the winds with ease
Are we playing the game or is the game playing us?
We can't always control what's infront of our eyes, but we can always control whats behind it. Surrender isn't about accepting defeat, but rather to recognise when to move forward and when to step back and let go. The only way to live with flow is to discard resistance and welcome coherence.
We surrender not to give up our power, but to regain our power.
the pangs dig deep
its been harder to sleep
this hunger we fight
with all our might
gone are our meals
but not our will
each breath we take
a vision we create
this fight's not done
for the power of one
the givers will give
the believers will live
the meals will arrive
and again we'll thrive
to faith we succumb
with prayer in this slum
for when faith is lost
the fight is lost
and when love is lost
all is lost
The plight of a daily wage worker in a lockdown. Not knowing where the next meal will come from, sometimes the only will one has is that to survive.
There is only interdependence in existence and continuity. We need another as much as another needs us. May we continue to recognise this oneness and keep giving in any way we can.
The whistle sounded, the train chugged
The journey began as many unplugged
Fates were rested on solid tracks
Scraps of iron responsible for their backs
Compartmentalised boxes carried varying stories
Some call it a divide, others settle for categories
Some boxes resplendent with ornaments and gilding
Others modest with unembellished finishings
Whatever the setting, the views didn't discriminate
One only had to look out if one had to rejuvenate
The landscapes never spoke, but the passengers listened
As if nature's lyrics were intently written
Each swayed by the drama of their lives
On a journey assumed with predestined stops
No one saw an impending halt
On unfinished tracks and an unexpected drop
If unspoken words were to be exchanged,
What would they have been
If unasked questions were to be answered,
Would they have freed one from within
How would we live if we had to treat every breath like our last?