tamed by the banks, river

struggles took a toll
of the resolve of a traveller
wanting to walk on many paths
not sure
which were the purpose
and which were distractions
but then the meandering river
can become a lake
if not tamed by the banks
or flood
the huts of those
who have no where to go

forgiving is easy

forgiving is easy,
and imperative when
there is a will to reflect
else
we may reinforce self referential
audacity
one can still forgive
all the beastly barbs
and not hold on to them
lest they pollute the river
on the bank of which you mediate

mediation over a dilemma

i mediated several times
hoping that the revelation will change its contours
and meaning will get transformed
every time,
i got the same voice
when truth becomes casualty and
cleverness the ploy of a partridge
dont hope that the bird will
learn to fly straight and thus harness the
energy of eternal love

it is not easy to assimilate the love
which requires
going beyond the yearnings for resolving
every dilemma today and here
patience has precipitated the truth
no more difficult to
accept

look into the eyes

dont ask me to look into your eyes
i can not see through
opacity of oppressive
arrogance
i submitted
i silenced the sound of sitar
when it had resonated so well
but the time has come now to
let it be played
let music of my breaths be
free again
let the sky sparkle
and the waves in the lake
dance
i will not let doubts and fears
restrain it any more

Joy of being free

Let joy of being free
Of bondages of expectations,
responsibility and restraints
Be yours now
Enjoy
And don’t complain that
Constraints exist no more
Find the shores
Which nurture your desire
To be free
Of dreams
That had become burden
So what if they brought you here
In the first place

Destroying the nests

O bird
I made so many nests for you
You broke all of them
I wouldn’t have minded
If you had found a better one
But you didn’t
Destroying what you had
Leaves you
Uncovered
And you still believe
It is the wind
To blame
For not letting you settle
In what you
You thought was your enclave

Empty cup


My cup was empty
And you filled it
A few Times
But sometimes
You poured your tears
Which were
Not genuine
Sometimes nectar
Of soul
Which was pure
But the cup was empty still
May it learn
To remain so

Crafting new Cups

Betrayed again
The brim by the storm
In the tea cup
Or the cracks in the china
By which the potter had made the cup

Time and again
Potter has tried
To build
Cups that will
Stand the heat and the cold
But then
May be
After a while
Each of his creation gets
Caught
In the trivial pursuit of
Now
And immediate

May be
The potter should stop
Crafting cups
And use curved leAves
May be
May be not

May be he should try afresh
With new clay
And new moulds
May be

I fail again

I have often wondered
Why do I fail in sculpting
A form
That defies
Easy definition
Trapped in mediocrity
Will I give up
No, how could
A boatm man leave
The search for wood which
Will make a boat that
Can survive storms
And many storms