Seasons in Life

For joy, for mirth
For unbridled laughter
And the gayest of fancies;
Fun that is mild, warm
Sunning, swimming in time 🙂

When laughter deepens
Sinks
Into gloom;
When thunderclouds gather
Threaten to rain-
When emotion floods
And seeps into the soul-
Turbulence-
Deep deep pools of misery
That swallow you whole!

And then the lull-
A quiet of understanding
Sometimes not;
At times accepting;
Caught in the current
Of the passage of time.

Most times, in the moment.

So too, with seasons- as they live;
Each in their place

The fresh and the blooming

The warm and ripening

The fruition of dreams

Quietly returning to whence
It all began.

Each season, in itself
A reason for Life.

2008.

Random springcleaning, searching for an important book, and a tiny notepad from years ago, finds my hands. Flipping through its pages, this word doodle 🙂 Silly, but I guess I know where it comes from 😀

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Unexpressed

When words rush out,
Choc-a-block-
From the depths…
The Abyss
The void
Where you know
Nothing is-

They possess you.

They rush-
In a stampede,
Only to be met
By that awful lump
In the throat.

In that release-
Freed from fathoms far
Below;
Fleeing fiercely;
Never to be trapped
Again in that
Numbing vacuum;

They never thought
That freedom hung on
That breath …

The breath held tight-
Constricted in the chest-
Steely, cold, heavy.

And the words?
They pushed,
Every which way,
Seeking that escape:

So you let them.
Escape, that is.
Through the despair
Shouting from the eyes,
In the voiceless plea-
The cold sweat,
Drenching the palms.

And the anguished silence.

Yet,
The lump in the throat
Doesn’t dissolve.

Whatever the expression,
It can never be complete;
Unless the knot is untied,
And comfort warms
The cold hard lump-

Till it dissolves
And
The breath freed…

The words, of course,
By now, have found release.

Goes to prove
Just this-

Words, who needs them?

17 April, 2008

Revisiting an old one again, for Day#9 of #NaPoWritMo 🙂

Engrossed

Wielding that brush-
With the colours of Life,
Arrayed in splendour…

She wondered what
Her brush would choose.

Not matter, though,
She knew – the colours
Would be those,
Destined to meet and merge;
And fill that-
Envisioned in the
Artist’s Soul.

Chewing upon his Pencil’s stub,
Vacuously-
He wondered at those
Words, that eluded him;
As he groped, for their
Sustenance, their life-giving
Rush of adrenalin.

They hovered, and danced,
Glided and waltzed,
Just out of reach!

Lying on the grass-
He looked up at that
Universe, the swirling
Mass of tangible emotion…

Sighed and shut his eyes;
Rolled over, on one side
And leaped to his feet
In one swift motion-
To net the first word
That he intercepted!

Only to be caught himself-
In a vision, ethereal
And mesmerizing;
Of swift brush strokes
Of colours that lived,
Of a canvas, shouting
In wild abandon-

And-
She painted.
He wrote.
Immersed. Enthralled.
Enchanted. Engrossed.

Till –
At the same instant
They recognized each other,
And smiled.

Replete.

12 April, 2008

A repost, one of the few I hope to share again, to clear my head, and get back to writing again 🙂