Does a rock have spirit
Maybe not they say Then why does a majestic mountain Lift my soul away
Does water have spirit
Perhaps they say Is that why a gurgling stream Makes my soul sway?
Does fire have spirit
Nay! do they repeat Then why does my soul Buoy in the bonfire heat?
Does the wind have spirit
Yes there’s a chance Is that why a breeze Stirs my soul to a dance.
Some answers are beyond words
As wisdom is beyond wit There sing those temple birds Only spirit can awaken spirit
Then should we ever question
Whether an idol has spirit at all Or should we ask ourselves, Does the idol move our soul?
In our darkest hours
Past all the loud calls
for help from the outside, Marooned in a quiet desperation We look for strength Within And pray Without breathing a word.
In our darkest hours
Lost of hope for tomorrow
With a tear-blurred vision
We long for a sight
Past our plight We close our eyes, And pray Hoping to see A vision divine.
When we seek music
That’s pure and true, We seek it Being mute
When we seek a vision
That’s bright and clear We seek it Being blind
While the universe whispers
Every minute Every moment We drown it In din Day in And day out.
Should we pity The blind? Should we mock The mute?
Maybe they are just as desperate
For help As we are In our darkest hour
Just maybe, They meet the Truth Beyond their blindness Eye to eye Every moment
Maybe they hear
Beyond doleful deafness In eternal silence A music divine.
We live in times strange, of false claim
Of calling all we own with our own name
How far have we strayed from who we are
No we aren’t our jobs, we aren’t our car
A layer of garment that’s fit to size
Becomes a part of elegant lies
Until fickle fashion changes its way
And those perfect dresses are cast away
Isn’t it the same with that gadget too
How it brings you a thrill and becomes you
Until they come out with a newer range
And make you believe it’s time for a change
With changing trends, it only gets tough
When they say what you own isn’t you enough And we retire our respect for all good reason Lest we commit an economic treason
If your identity is determined by all the rest
Your power will be the easiest to divest And if all this tamasha feels odd and absurd The time is ripe to steer your course inward.
Beware of that hypnotic popular call
You feel momentarily big, but, forever small Seek instead that priceless core Set out, discover, and bring it to the fore.
It won’t be easy as all forces seek conformity
As your deviance is deemed a deformity But follow you must, beyond all fuss The undeniable light of your inner compass
And though you might wear an old-fashioned dress
And wield tools that might fail to impress
You will shine in glory, and get way far
In the journey of discovering who you really are.
There is a bird I’ve known for far too long
Only and only by its silken song As much as I’ve tried to find her perch I’ve ended up with a fruitless search
It sings melodies like a bamboo flute
While picking and eating berries and fruit A nameless friend that brings such joy Yet I know not if it’s a girl or boy !
But one fine day when it stopped singing
My voice, my words, they went missing For all the penmanship, everything I wrote Was a quote of the birdsong note for note
With a longing ear, its song did I seek
I waited for a sign many a week In agony I wondered ‘Did I lose my muse?’ And in mourning I penned down my blues.
With that outpouring, painful and tragic
Emerged an element of elegant magic I heard its voice note for note The bird sang the blues I just wrote
It said, I am sorry to have disappeared
I grew afraid of thoughts you too feared Was my spirited song, a daily drivel Was there meaning at all in tales I tell?
Bird, I told, you are timeless art
Each of my word is a dipping dart Aimed at pinning the essence in your song The pursuit of all artists all along
As bright as you imagine my feathers to be
Your words are light that invite me to see The silent surrender to art in pursuit The beauty in song that’s beyond refute
And so we mirrored each other’s thought
Together did flow past the creative clot We traded our thoughts as we must And never argued about who stopped first
And we found a vision along with our sight
The bird sang aloud, fearlessly did I write To tell tales in tandem became our resolution And I named the nameless bird, Inspiration.
There are times when I have got nothing to say,
And nobody to share that nothingness with.
The sun hides behind the clouds.
The rain falls, pitter-patter. There sits a lonely dove on the cable Awaiting someone.
I fly to that brooding bird
And proclaim, All the truths she knows already
Again and again,
I speak Of that feeling, Of silently sauntering in the shimmering summer sun, Of a restless retreat over raging rivers on a run Of tumbling like a torpedo towards the tarmac turf Of soaring in the sky on a slow, shy surf Of the festive fervor in foraging for fruit Of loving lentil left by the lintels to loot
Of picking the perfect twig for a nest
Of the relief in repose, of relishing rest
Of being in love yet being lonely
Of being lonely yet being in love
The curvy cable eavesdrops
On our candid confessions Coated in collegial camaraderie
The wire weighs down with
the weight of two birds It hangs low between posts, As if smiling
The sun shines,
The rainbow smiles back At the smiling cable Upside down.
two birds Fly away, alone still, Lifted in spirit Melded in meaning
Fleeting flirtations Of those two silent, sinuous symbolic smiles.