Flowers in our balcony garden

Every dawn unfolds with a splash of newer hues,
of aspirations that stretch beyond the realm of ready reality,
so ebullient,
so yellow...
Every twilight reaffirms that eternal quest to chase newer dawns,
while swimming in the same chasms of reality to seek newer truths,
so mystic,
so inky...
...And every night makes you wonder what is that truth that you so eagerly seek,
like the pattern how night unfolds and crushes the day so meek,
so stark,
so black.

Hues of the Day

Every dawn unfolds with a splash of newer hues,
of aspirations that stretch beyond the realm of ready reality,
so ebullient,
so yellow...

Every twilight reaffirms that eternal quest to chase newer dawns,
while swimming in the same chasms of reality to seek newer truths,
so mystic,
so inky...

...And every night makes you wonder what is that truth that you so eagerly seek,
like the pattern how night unfolds and crushes the day so meek,
so stark,
so black.

Resolve

Just a blob of distant memory,
while the mind begins to dust them,
far away,
and newer, fresher ones,
seek to make their way,
into secret caverns and abysses.

I know no tomorrow,
but I know what spent my yesterday...

I know no clarity,
for it is a journey not the end point...

I know no escape,
and I shall never choose to...

Freedom

Every flame that takes birth with a burst of spark,
And seeks to endure even the harshest tempests,
Finally spreading the warm orange glow of serenity and freedom...

...But what is that elusive freedom,
for which we had to die, and kill,
Be hated, and hate,
or
Be lonely, and just wait,
till that moment of apparent clarity
as if those chains that you willed,
ceased to exist,
Were they chains embedded in your mind,
or just no more than a figment w emade ourselves to believe we were trapped in...

...Of what use is that freedom that bonds you,
into doing what you do,
thinking the way you think,
can life actually be made to reset,
in a mere blink?

...And what does it mean to be free,
and claim that righful space in your "own" blue skies,
when all that you will do is,
to fight for a slice of its pie?

Pitch Black

Aren't we all killed,

a bit by bit,
just at different times,
or the time might be same,
but what stays intact - my dear friend,
is that we get killed...
and we will get killed.

 

Reality, time, soul and the mind

All quite, all still,
And in the darkness the mind wills,
To confront the soul,
Wiping away the dusts of time...

...Yet time chooses on its own,
The wandering mind or the soul so lone,
To confront what's real,
And spits away the unreal grime.

Truth

Just when the streams of morn daylight,
Cast a halo all around you,
A tiny tassle of cloggy cloud makes it way up,
And begins doubting everything that has ever been true...

.. Yet you smile and stay on course,
Uncertain, unknown, against every such force,
If every truth needed to be challenged,
Is truth itself an illusory hope....?