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TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
You woo me deep
into the ecstasy of your pristine chasteness...

where dry leaves of Aspen and Beech and Birch
sussurate to the music of a lazy breeze,

where Hummingbirds
**** in frenzy
nectar from the orange glees
of the flame-of-the-forest trees,

where Hawthorns
lure the breeze
to weave its vibrance
in their domes of green glory,

where shrunken streams
bask in their white pebbly flourish.

Like an enchantress,
you lure me to the depth of your
rapturous bliss!

To say farewell, my heart pains.
I leave a beat of my heart
to ramble with the roving breeze
perennially in your alluring meadows!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Flowing from a mesmeric flute,
soothing chimes of celestial stillness
stroke every grain of my being to a lullaby.

Like a gentle mist
illuminating a willing landscape to esoteric radiance,
every cell glows to a call from the depth of stillness.

Dust returning to dust
to free the spirit from the hold of mortality
diffusing it to a galactic wonder of thoughtful mystery,
with new wings to migrate to a land
shut to mortals blinded by illusions.

On the wings of the mystical whirlwind
I dance to the call of bliss
that escort me to the heart of its radiance.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
You always transcend my sadness
with your hypnotic stillness,
your entrancing symphonies.

My thoughts go back to the banks of Langat*,
where one day a little boy sat alone,
just only five,
bewildered, in a canoe.

From the sea,
from the streams,
from the rain,
you chanted a calming mantra to soothe him,
calling him to dissolve
in your awe-inspiring presence.

Your aquamarine sheen paints
the intricacies of all that I'm.
In the cool blue depth of your stillness,
I long to create the tabernacle of my being.

Never I thought
your melodies could become
the war cry of a devilish psyche!

Today I'm perplexed,
when I hear the anguished human cries
from the twirls of your turbid anger.

I realise
you’ve become an enigma
that pulls me to the depths of a
crazy conundrum.

How many more shades of anger you hide
in the burning red heart of the mantra you chant
to give me a heavenly bliss, Oh Water?
* Langat is a river that separates Carey Island (Pulau Carey), an island in Selangor, Malaysia, from the Selangor coast.

NOTE: My love affair with water started when I was in my mother's womb! It continues even today. Water has become so integral to me that it sustains my spirit in its fullness!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
After the petals are fallen
I wait in ecstasy
for the treasured seeds of life
trancing in my womb
to paint the wings of spring
in colours of mirth
to rejuvenate the dead dreams
of a parched earth!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
The carpeted bluebells
under the woodland canopy
swaying in ecstasy
to the hypnotic tunes of the morning breeze
invite me
to blend with them
to create a new shade of Spring.

Am I not privileged?
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
How many Springs have visited
this wintery desolation,
painting it gorgeous with its enchanting glory!

How many Spring flowers have mesmerised
this arid wasteland
with its ethereal beauty!

Tell me, why the Spring has not visited me,
why has it not mixed its soothing colours in my dreary dreams?
Why has it not left its splendour
on my parched longings?

A garden I didn’t ask for,
but only a slice of its colour.
A garden I didn’t ask for,
but only a single flower –
to treasure in my mourning soul
the life that Spring brings to
the winter of my frozen dreams.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
a dazzling burst of flaming colours
dance orange and yellow
through my soul’s innate yearnings
diffusing in me a magic
so alluring that
i long to eternally abide
in its magnificent womb!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
A single flower I asked for -
a keepsake of your mesmeric beauty.
But you gave bunches of bliss
in myriad hues of yellows,
every bough beaming with heaven’s majestic smiles!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
When he told them
he’s still the boy
who chased a maverick dream
riding on the wings of a wild wind
across the galaxies, scooping diamond dust
from the milky ways
to mix enchanting reds
to colour anew
the rays of the morning sun – they didn’t believe him.

When he told them
he’s still the boy
who waded through the dark mist
of a coal-black sky
searching for the sparkle of the glittery stars
to brighten the glow of the fireflies
in his tree house - they didn’t believe him.

When he told them
he’s beyond the tentacles of change,
scripted in immortality - they laughed at him.

How he’ll convince them, he wondered!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Who said
sound is a vibration
that travels at a bizarre speed?

I saw it softly floating
ensconced in bubbles
to a celestial gravity
that pulls them up
to the realm of idyllic bliss.

Bubbles exude the
brilliant hues of my yearnings,
wrap me inside
their merino fleece warmth,
hold me to their *****
with the tenderness
I ever cherish in my soul.

Sound nestles in its heart
a mesmeric glow of music
ordained to play
the salute note
to augur the birth of a
new hankering.

The woeful flute
of the gypsy maiden
soulfully sings
a melancholy melody
for her lost love
to get a phoenix’s wings
under the silver mist of the
new moon’s splendour.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
In its caves of insolence,
night hides its diabolic secrets
when light sows its golden pearls
across the horizon. It paints its treachery
with the innocence of the morning light
like a master-chameleon
that wraps its lies
in a psychedelic charm.

A rainbow
once disguised its radiance
to become the shadow of night and  
smeared its leaden drops of deceit
on the angel-white glow of the clouds.

Perhaps, that’s why we are the way we are –
living in different skins!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Primordial chants
meditating in the soul of the black onyx beads.

Frozen drops of bliss nestling in the sinews,
soaking me in its sublime stillness,
leading me to its philharmonic depth,
yoking me to its cosmic vibes.

I sublimate
to become the chants
that pulsate in the soul
of the black onyx beads...
TheMystiqueTrail Oct 2018
White clouds
sailed down
like a whiff of melancholy
to kiss to the mountains
before wafting to the heavens
to join the cosmic mystery.

Thoughts are putrid air
in a dingy room.
They nauseate.
My heart pains.

Can light ever disobey
the one who said “let there be light”
and camouflage into
the sacrilegious web of darkness?

Light never knocks,
it gate-crashes to live
it’s destiny; it’s a melody,
no one has seen its wings;
the discerning floats
with it to join in the cosmic mystery!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Like caterpillars that rise
to the bliss of the blue skies
from the chrysalis of mortality
on the wings of the fairy butterflies,
we leave the shackles of your body
to embrace its kindred souls of dust, and
migrate to eternity’s solemn splendour.

Are we afraid?
are we afraid to explore the skies of eternity ?
A Dragonfly once flew up
on its whispery wings
to the azure sky
that caught in the emptiness of time
after a crazy rainstorm disillusioned it,
to greet the Sun
peeking through scraps of ebony clouds.

A euphoric Sun mixed gold dust
to an ethereal orange on its palette, and
blew the sibyllic mist on the giggly,
gossamer wings of the Dragonfly.

And lo, tiny sparkling rainbow drops
started dancing
on the dreaming consciousness of the
rain-wet earth!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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?
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Divine hands
with the dexterity
to disperse a flurry of ethereal fragrances
in one’s soul
take me on a pilgrimage
to the depths of the soul
where I touch the core of my consciousness.

Soul-stirring fragrance of Sandalwood
wafting into my cells
takes me to the depth of
stillness to free my spirit
from the hold of mortality!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Roller coaster...
it propels you to the zenith of ecstasy
to hurl you surlily to the pits of agony.

It mocks your senses,
turns your sensibilities upside down,
pounds your heart to panic bewilderment.

It dishevels your tranquillity,
shoves you to a hysteric frenzy,
pushes you into the dark world of insanity.

Still, we cherish the thrill of its madness,
outwit each other
to jump on the bandwagon
that takes us to the holes of delusion!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Dark mysterious clouds
climbed sky’s majestic vault
to create a lustrous charcoal painting.
Black monochrome,
myriad shades of black,
varied ashen hues,
subtle shades only an ingenious artist can create.

A stroke here,
a stroke there,
magic spread across the sky.

Fluffy clouds in flux,
exotic forms,
grandeur unfolding in the sky.

Like strobe lights,
sun’s golden rays peek through the dark clouds -
a psychedelic light show of a grand scale!

The silhouetted tree watched
this splendid spectacle
in awe and in wonder!
TheMystiqueTrail Oct 2018
A queer breed of ostriches we're!
Scared of reality,  
we bury our senses
in the barren sands of illusion,
live in an oasis of fantasy!

Does the glare of daylight scare us?
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Flowing from a mesmeric flute,
soothing chimes of melody
caress every cell of my being to a lullaby.

Like silver drizzles of sunlight
illuminating a willing landscape
to esoteric radiance,
every cell glows to a call
from the depth of stillness.

Dust returning to dust
to free the spirit from the hold of mortality
diffusing it to a primaeval wonder of
thoughtful mystery,
with new wings to migrate
to a land shut to mortals
blinded by illusions.

On the wings of the mystical whirlwind
I dance to the call of bliss
that escorts me to the
heart of its radiance.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
I believe death is a brilliant burst of kingly crimson
painting us divine.
but in our frailty,
we mix gory shades of dread in it
to paint it scary!”
Twilight is pastel,
grey grief gripping the soul,
wrapping in a pall of thickened mist
with a sickening shade of
mourning brown.

At the horizon,
you wait for the homing birds
to fly on its wings
like a dream glued to my life’s script.

Many times I wondered,
why you come back to this land
where the scary hand of the butcher
scuttles every dream;
where humanity drowns
in its own anguished cries.

The smell of blood is
intoxicating when its grasp
tightens like a noose
on my consciousness.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Like a spinning top,
we spin and spin and spin...
chaotic spin
dizzying speed!
A hallucinated spin that takes us nowhere!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
A comely rainbow
spanning the wet, sobbing sky;
colours showering
mesmeric pearls of teardrops on earth.

Many subtle shades of marvel
unfolded that day.

Elegance of burning splendour in sun’s soul -
earth treasuring the seed of the first rain
in its womb for a new birth -
Spring’s svelte fingers
painting brilliance across the droning vale -
mist of radiance of a gorgeous moon -
stars sparkling to a melody
flowing from the divine harp -
sea breeze carving
shifting sculptures on sands of gold -
amorous mirth of sea waves
rushing to the hug of a waiting shore.

I stood there,
a trance benumbing my senses
to an hypnotic bliss.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Words vaporise
before they’re formed
to turn bland rinds of nothingness
escaping my mind’s horizon.

Your mystical spell
opens eclectic urges
taking me to a psychedelic world
where the voice of my inner world
goes into voiceless hibernation.

I long to dissolve
in the warmth of your ecstasy,
travel beyond the discordant shrills
of a cacophonous world
on the wings of your stillness.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Freeing from the shackles of the past
trickling down to a catharsis
at the slender neck of the hourglass,
the golden grains of sand
dribble down
to create my reality.

Unhurriedly they flow,
with me they flow
into the forgottenness of the past  they flow,
to rise like a Phoenix
clothed in the newness
of the present
to create a new me!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
You baffle me with your many moods,
your stormy tempers,
your quirky outbursts,
your melancholic whining,
your calming melodies,
your soothing caresses,
the white turbulence that froths at your flustered soul!

Sensual colours of creation shimmer in your depth,
every drop carries the colours of your depth,
in the depth of your soul, you trance in stillness!

Your mystic charm mesmerises me,
I become a vestal drop that celebrates the mystery
that unfolds in your soul’s stillness!
TheMystiqueTrail Oct 2018
When the river flows
to the cliff for its deadly plunge
into the maelstrom of nothingness
that defines the soul of the netherworld,
you enter into the nirvana
that rests in the stillness of your consciousness.

Heaven's gravity holds you up
to glide over the mundane!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Masks, masks, so many masks.
…many shapes, many colours, many expressions…
elegantly crafted,
artfully painted,
gracefully sitting on all faces.

compassionate masks.

Beneath the masks…
ruthless faces –
hypocrisy writ large on all of them!

Real faces,
real faces of real men…
faces with the innocence we’re born with…
where’ve all they gone?
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Parallel lines do not meet.
Together they travel,
all through a lifetime
savouring the solitude
of each others company.

Intact they keep their uniqueness,
never crossing each other's path, giving space
to the other to bloom,
flourishing in each other’s company.

Parallel lines do not meet
when they meet, they die!
Railroads always fascinate me!
TheMystiqueTrail Oct 2018
The grief that broods in your soul
gushes as a fiery deluge
drowning you
in the flames of a sulphurous agony.

Between the layers of consciousness,
like a brutal cleaver,
it tears up the umbilical cord
that knots you up with your life's script.

On the wings of a melancholic sigh,
you glide to a land of psychedelic dreams
where the hypnotic beat of conga drums
carry you to a world
beyond the dreary beats
of a mundane chore.

The ecstasy of your steps
creates a mystical rhythm
for your Galala dance!

Even the shadow of your dreams
has a sapphire blue
woven into its consciousness!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Raindrops have long returned to their nests of ethereal clouds.
Few stayed here,
diamond drops scattered on
the white pearly glow of my bougainvillaeas,
immortalising the beauty of a mystic's smiles.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
On this frosty morning
the dew-jewelled shimmering grass
calls me to immortalise my naked footprints
on its sparkling green carpet.

The mural needs to be perfect,  
    it says!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
benign sky showering splendid pearls
on an earth lost to a dreary dryness!

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!
raindrops, flowers, bliss, cosmic
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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”.
attitude, square, peg, Master, success
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
A mischievous breeze
left the leaves of the baronial tree
to weave new strains of music
in my hair.
And that set my soul free!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
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!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
I was alone on this journey, I thought
till I realised the road was all along with me
hugging my feet to ease my steps
as I strode homeward.

We travelled together
like two lonely souls who met to become soulmates.

Me and the mystical road, we
kept travelling,
I, oblivious to the home I already reached!
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Like a hapless fly
trapped in a spider’s tricky web,
I struggle.

A vicious web,
a thousand hairy hands,
crooked as they are,
they descended on me
to squeeze my sensibilities
in their roguish grip.

A hapless fly
trapped in a spider’s tricky web,
I struggle.
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
The first rain.
Silver drops that
soothe the wounds of a
parched earth!

In elation,
the emaciated earth
released an earthy fragrance
trancing in its soul.
The green frilly leaves of the Ivy plant
gifted the earth a universe
meditating in the heart of a water droplet.
A euphoric red-winged cuckoo
sang a melody in stirring tones of mirth.

The first rain came.
With it came a pall of gloom.
A nostalgic pain that
growing up
snatched from me the ability
to dance in the rain,
sing with the cuckoo,
go wild under the
thunderous fireworks of the sky.
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