Euphoria

A storyteller may peak into your proud eyes,
Each time a glimpse of glorious blissful day
Sends wild electric waves of joyous hope,
And he continues writing a historical novel,
Where you become his ecstatic beating heart,
Yet, he may forget the exact sequence of time,
Falter not, my dearest soul, for he is in a race,
So, go on and carry the Pearl into the heavens,
But await his call as he resurfaces in euphoria.

Advertisements

Lengthening a Short Friendship

I know that there is so much more
To the things we all are living for,
And I have only seen few springs
Dancing on tunes as the bird sings,
And you became part of the story
As we happily smiled in our glory,
Introduced by a gorgeous friend,
This gracious bond will never end,
I found you to be a gem so rare,
If only Time was to us a bit fair,
A serene song sung to get closer
To you for I became a composer,
During the spring of our time
Our pure souls began to rhyme
Into a dance of this blissful bond,
I can see us here and even beyond,
And tonight will be a great night,
And our day will be so bright,
With endless hugs and kisses,
We dream now of many blisses.

Howls and Roars

I was once a little boy who travelled
To different planets; each to tell their
Own ancient story about my purpose –
Not theirs, and strangely enough, only
Riddling clues evaporated into my ears,
The voice? Well, no specific position,
Only the vivid signs in the atmosphere,
And on the brightest month of the year,
And on the coldest night of the month,
And on the loneliest hour of the night,
Wolves started to appear amidst the
Misty snowfall of a woodland planet,
And I have lived on this planet patient
For it to tell me its story about me,
And even after years spending on it,
I have never heard anything except now:
The endless howls under the several
Moonlights – the volcanic planet did
Reveal the secret of the darting red
Eyes that would stop my heartbeat,
But I had to do something for them,
And their approach was slow and
Fixated centred entirely around me,
I couldn’t climb the trees or dig down
And hide below some earthly matter,
But I might be able to speak some
Sense into them, and so I told them
To go away and leave me alone,
I asked them what of me did they want,
Their reply was simply predatory,
And I knew that any second now
I would be devoured into little pieces
Beyond recognition, and so I shouted,
And I noticed the hesitation on the
Younger wolf, and so I roared at the
Top of my young lungs, and many
Stopped their deathly march, but
Since I was by myself that pause did
Not last forever, and so, I roared again
And again and again, but this time,
The planet roared its life with me.

The Secret Garden

This is a story about our encounter:
A secret bestowed upon a garden
By the keepers of a magical town,
Centred within Gaelic wilderness,
Frivolous birds briskly fly their wings
Into the flowers of a peaceful summer,
We become trees: young and wise,
Organic leaves delineating our soul,
Signs of nature pulling us here,
A nest for storytellers, a sanctuary so
Sacred till the last sip of a teapot,
Brewed within earthly volcanic
Waters to be consumed by many
Celestial souls of serene beings,
The story tells of an enigmatic
Inscription well-preserved within
Its silent walls and cushioned floors,
Within its dim lights and fragrant
Candles, within the cheerful friends
And the veiled whispering couples,
The story discloses to the passers-by
The will to dance a tribal ritual
Energised by the rare melodic aether,
Strings of a golden harp revealing
The vivid colours of this garden,
The story now flicks to a different
Chapter as the door cracks open
And the chimes of our steps reach
This realm’s magnificent keepers,
The same ones who forged this
Hideout for us to share something,
So, relax, take a sip, and enter the story.

Self-Study

Erase your annoyance over gullibility,
Remove the engrained hooks placed
To bait Time out of their praying souls,
Little preys to your predatory behaviour,
Empty hands quivering at the necessity
Of appreciating charitable giving of the
Goodness of this life and the hereafter,
A story about the return after exodus,
Ancestors tearful for the odd escape,
Something that foretold the encasing
Desolation and the purposelessness
Of your habitual soulless cold life,
Consequences of hesitant beats of
The heart would crumble your mind
Into cries of repetitive annoyance,
So, stop and seize your soul into
An empty room for a moment of
Total silence and a bit of cogitation.

Beauty of Running

I free a muscle to swell my eyes,
A twinkle by the distant horizon,
Only time will tell me its story,
Dreamers sitting by waters of sapphire,
Clap for all of us and move forward,
An old lady’s smile is all what it takes
As the twinkle nears my running feet,
And I speed to grab its gleaming lights,
And become the distant horizon that
Beautifully swelled my carefree eyes.