Lightning
with fiery shades of wrath
woven into its shards
ripped the horizon,
dived into the ocean
to its depths of sedimented pretensions,
baptised it with drops of sulphurous fire,
to a cleansed conscience.

The ocean rose up in a high tide of exuberance,
escorted me to its depths
for the drop of sulphurous fire to baptise me,
to give my yearnings the shape of a flame
that puts my soul on fire.

Snug in the trance of your solitude,
you whoosh through the silver clouds
like a Sphene meteorite
lighting up a green fluorescent trail,
while the music in your soul
dance to the phantom glow of the stars
that lullaby you on your numinous path.

You came to roost in the frigid dreams
of a callous winter that haunts my soul,
to paint mysterious charms in my yearnings.

Your eloquent kyowks entrance me -
to fly with you
on your pilgrimage
through the silver clouds
to a land beyond the frostiness of this callous winter.

When you glaze
this wooded trails
with your gossamer spell,
paint frosted-glass abstracts
in green undertones...

when you caress
the blooming buds of Morning Glory
to purple nymphs,
snug in your silky, satin blanket...

when you perch on this valley,
permeate its soul,
wrap it in your frosty artistry...

when heaven’s ingenuity
weaves splendour
through your sylphlike fingers,
O morning mist,
wrap me up in your silver haze,
seep into my soul,
infuse in me
the mysterious awe
of your ethereal magic.

When the Flamingos return home
with their pink flourish flaring up the horizon,
my shadow grows taller, stranger.

At an untidy pace, it grows,
swifter than my feet,
outsmarting my sanity.

With contours blurred to a hazy oblivion,
a stranger to me I become. I search me
hiding in the shadow of a Chimeric illusion.

My impish shadow plays hide and seek -
long in the morning,
weeny at noon,
weird again in the evening, but
never it leaves me!

When Flamingos return home,
it cruises with the setting sun
across the mystical waters
beneath the earth
to return to me
with the blissful colours
of a new dawn!

Dry grass smouldering,
smoke spiralling up the sky,
nostalgia solidifying in the heart
like rocks of scoria from boiling lava.

An eerie feeling oozing through the pores
forming drops of cool soothing light
holding me in its albino hands.

The colour of light –
is it phantom white, or
a potpourri of sensations?

I remember,
in my tender days
all colours were red.
An effervescent cherry-red radiance
coloured the passions of my heart.

Seven Seas confluencing in the soul,
water throbbing in the expanse of the sea,
sky emptying its azure desires in the sea,
stillness at the heart of the sea –
a placid cauldron of pure life!

That day I met myself -
the mystic in red radiance!

Raindrops...
benign sky showering splendid pearls
on an earth lost to a dreary dryness!

Raindrops...
soothing pats of the pristine heavens
to transform a barren earth.

Flowers dancing in bliss –
birds singing in ecstasy -
trees swaying hilariously –
parched earth soaked in wintry contentment -
my heart going back to a childhood
when raindrops pattering on my icy cheeks
brought the realisation that
I live in the flowers, the birds, the breeze, and the trees, and they in me, to make us a Cosmic whole!

Countless generations walked here
ever since humanity dawned on this planet.
Some honoured, but many obscure –
like flowers that bloom in the wilderness
without an eye to adore their beauty!

On the sands of time,
they all left their footprints… but
with their swift sweeps, the sea waves
wiped them to oblivion.

But the grains of sand revere
all the feet that ever kissed them.
With great awe, they treasure in their souls
their footprints, celebrate
humanity’s sojourn on this planet!

Golden speckles that capture Sun’s graceful face;
autumnal blue, like mist settled on soft silk -
a mystic painter’s mixed colour palette!

Colourful dream floating on the breeze,
dancing as it flits through the flowers,
cosmic rhythm in every flutter,
the Universe in a butterfly.

Is it real, or
is it a delicate dream flowing to me
from a mysterious planet?

A peg was once sad, for
it was square, and
found itself in a round hole.

A misfit, it thought - a square peg in a round hole, so to speak.

Its search for a square hole went on till
one day the Master said:
“Many pegs are that way – square.
They find themselves placed in round holes
and hammer themselves in, only to break.

Success lies in reshaping your edges
to the shape of the hole
for a perfect fit”.

Summer rain,
mesmerising pearls from heaven!
Single drops turning torrential
as it nears the earth;
amorous as it readies to hug it.

Sunbeams slicing the raindrops
bringing out the rainbows hidden inside.
Misty drops dancing to the
music of a hallucinated wind,
bewitched by the grandeur
pouring from the heavens.
A parched earth drunk
with the heavenly nectar,
released a heady aroma
to soothe the dryness around.

Summer rain!
It left a solitary drop on a blissful leaf.
Gleaming and luminous,
it hangs on the green shoot
in a deep embrace,
to bury in its soul
the radiance enlivened by the
spirited dance of rain and sun;
to treasure for eternity
the splendour the first rain has gifted to
the dry earth.

A tiny seed once tarried in stoic stillness
treasuring in its womb
an embryo with cosmic imprint on its soul...
and the tiny seed hibernated to a mystical trail!

Frosty squalls, summer torments, marauding insects –
all came in a cavalcade!

It dreamt the mighty tree
slumbering in the core of its being,
arching over the earth,
spreading its majesty for every eye to behold!

It yearned for the calming lullaby of the rain,
for the burning kiss of the raindrops
to fire its soul,
to caress to fullness the dormant life in its gravid womb.

In silence, it gazed heavenward –
and lo, an intense raindrop tugged its heartstrings
to a melodic ecstasy
releasing the music of the seedling
from its womblike soul!

Beyond the horizon of my perception
thoughts transcend to form
stellar dust that sits
on the galactic centre of my psyche
scribbling the script of my being.

Webs of galaxies
dance to the rhythmic beat of a mystic drummer
escorting me to a prismatic awareness
that flows through the soul,
and I become an enigma
buried in the code of my genesis.

At the crossroads of eternity
I transfigure into the mystic drummer,
wafting to the shores of serenity
on the wings of the Orphic rhythm
of the divine drum beat.

In the mystery of its soul
Light holds a soulful secret.

When darkness casts its conceit over the horizon
in monochrome shades of melancholy,
it resurrects as a Firebird
in golden silhouettes of flame,
illuminating the warped convictions of a
perverted darkness.

Light once knocked
at the stony tomb of your conscience
calling out your name.
But you feigned, refused to leave
the comforts of a pretended ignorance!

You didn’t realise you’re my thoughts
incarnated in charming colours of a conundrum!

How long will I call out your name
before you allow the light of my resurrection
to shred the shroud of a deathly pretence?

Hurricane is insane!
Sailing on a black wave of deception,
it's quagmire of lies
**** me into the vortex of its absurdities,
make a mockery of my sensibilities.

But, in the heart of its insanity
the hurricane nurses a sanctuary of sensibility.

Is it a mirage to lure me deeper into its deceptions, who knows!

With its parched dreams,
beneath the zizzing sands,
the river waits for a surging swell
to take it to the labyrinths of a
new consciousness.

You choose your own course
when you crash into the
chasms of meaninglessness.

You hibernate to the still zone
trancing between words
when words fail to contain you.

As you flow through me,
you become the sacrarium
in the labyrinths of my consciousness
for me to diffuse in your soul’s stillness.

Thin thoughts
become breezy spectres
drifting through my consciousness
in search of an identity.

Clad in God's light they come,
clad in dark deceit they come,
in many forms they come,
different hues they assume;
they journey through my consciousness
to create my identity.

Through the void of a vacuum
they navigate,
create different realities of my soul.
They belong to different worlds
and no worlds at all.

My thoughts are gypsies;
they're on a marvellous journey
to the heart of a divine mystery!

Words have a strange way of ignoring me
when I need them most.
They fade into the folds of blankness
blaspheming the truth of my reality.

Sheepishly I stare at the laptop screen,
hoping it would crack open
to gift me the word
that decodes the dilemma of my existence.

Shooting stars bloom in the womb of infinity,
**** on the wings of the Thunderbirds,
a trail of fairy dust gracing their fiery tracks
as they sear through the gloom of the night skies.
I amble through the folds of the sullen clouds,
collecting the stars
as they wrap me in their cherubic dazzle.
The champagne flourish
of a Pink Diamond Star
flares up in my soul
livening me like the fireflies
that carry me on their blushing wings
as I saunter through the dusky skies
collecting the falling stars
to brighten up my dreary horizon!