Up or down the vantage point

From the edge of the mountain top,

The world looks so quite and calm,

Even as it is filled to the brim with chaos.

 

There are a hundred million stars over my head,

Far away lights from the front poach of the homes,

Dead wood cracking inside the fire, burning red – the ember.

 

Silence is in the air but the song that I hear is unique,

A mild blow of the wind whistling in my ear,

Rustle of the dead leaves awaiting its departure.

 

Is it so beautiful because I am at the top?

Or is it the same even far, far below?

Everyone fancies the vantage point!

 

It’s the same place, the same world,

The world, too beautiful to live in,

Or too beautiful to leave.

….Sara

 

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Don’t wait for the wind, when a breeze is all you need.

I walked to the shore,

Bare foot, hair down,

Wanting to see the Sun rise,

Behind the cold water,

Over the blue horizon.

 

The chill was biting my skin,

I hoped for some warmth,

From the Sun, still hidden.

 

The waves kissed my feet,

Turtles running along,

The morning birds chirped,

Keeping me company,

Singing a song.

 

So much beauty was around,

Yet the one thing I was desperate for,

Was the warmth from the Sun.

 

I strolled all over the shore,

Until my legs screamed for some rest.

I sat on a dead log,

Covered green in algae,

Waiting for the waves to pull it in.

 

The once majestic tree,

Was vulnerable and bare,

With layers peeled off.

 

It never whined or rambled,

Never chased off the parasites,

Never peeled the algae away,

Never pushed me off when I took refugee.

It served a purpose even after life.

 

In our life, we walk all over the sand,

Wanting to leave an imprint,

Forgetting the wave washing after.

 

I realized,

The Sun was always there,

In your view or not.

The light is always there,

Day or night.

 

In our quest for the Sun,

We fail to notice the hidden stars,

Or the miracle comet passing by.

 

Take a step back,

Take a deep breath,

Feel the warmth in your life.

Don’t wait for the wind,

When a mild breeze is all that’s needed to lift you up!

….Sara

To the rain misting my window

The rain is lashing on my roof

Splashing on my window panes

Misting the outer world

 

My clumsy mind

Clouds up in dreams

Too lovely to be tossed away

 

I wish you were here

Right now

Right next to me

 

Holding my hand

Caressing my hair

Talking stories all day long

 

My lonely heart

Doodles imageries

Dreaming all the while

 

I don’t have a hope

I don’t want to

I wish I could just bury my feelings

 

Deep, deep in the ground

And never let it grow

But the rain waters it to sprout again!

….Sara

A pleasant jungle, you and I

Lets get all cozy

under that one blanket

On a Saturday night

Watching Netflix

Flying pop corn around.

 

My head resting on your shoulders

You caressing my hair

We holding hands.

 

A warm home

Giggle filled.

In a pleasant jungle

You and I.

….Sara

 

One Smile made it all !

It was 10AM,
Yet I was just so done.
Bright was the sky,
But I saw no Sun.

Steam from the coffee shop,
Circling round and round.
Rock and roll from the jukebox,
Old pop, no cheer around.

Distracted, my eyes loitered,
Turning the pages of who’s who,
A gush of wind and tinkling bells,
My gaze found you.

Tucking your hair back,
Adjusting glasses in place,
A pencil between those pink lips,
A white dress of lace.

So immersed in thinking,
I’d kill to read that mind.
My breath was so lost,
Searching, where do I find?

Your eyes behind those glasses,
Speaking a million words,
I envied that paper,
Deciphering your world.

I prayed for those eyes
To look up and see me once,
Angels do exist,
My sharp luck now blunt.

I hid behind the menu,
So pathetic, my instincts.
Swearing and cursing was all left,
Good day, bad stint.

Pulling over my jacket,
I walked past you.
Dropping a note,
Out of the blue.

In the cold air,
I walked away.
Behind the glass door,
Your smile made my day!

….Sara

 

Martyred memories

A rusted heart lying in a corner,

Not so peppy pumping in blood.

At times you might even think it’s dead,

Yet up close, frail life hangs off the cliff.

 

Living was far away,

But survival clung from time to time.

Passing the day was hard,

Counting every second, minute and hour.

 

Then came a storm,

A tornado as you walked in.

Turning over my dormant heart,

Blowing away the rust.

 

You looked immortal,

The master of healing.

I prayed you to mend my heart,

With your magic filled hands.

 

You were an onlooking prodigy,

Silent looks were all mine.

Time passed and faith was along,

Every look nudging me to get off the ground.

 

Effort I took was wrenching,

Painful as it shook my soul.

Long dead feelings sprouted up,

Dread along with lingering courage.

 

My hands shook and brain went blank,

The moment our eyes met.

Desperate I was to part,

Not wanting the past back.

 

I need an answer,

Yet I don’t sometimes,

Questions I kept forgetting,

Memory was a pain.

…Sara

Twirling poetry

My words are at dire loss,

Breaking with every comma,

Ending with every period,

Yet never beginning when it should.

 

May be this is a break-up phase,

Where the hyphen is left to hang

mid-sentence, never to be completed,

Reeling with pain of anticipation.

 

My brain piles up with question marks.

Just the right amount, no more, no less,

Pity the bad timing,

No answers anytime soon.

 

When the gloom passes,

And the sun peeps out,

I might use some excitement,

Ending with an exclamation.

 

Punctuations spin the white sheet,

Vaguely drumming the beat until

the rhythm and words fuse,

Sentence they become, happily ever after!

….Sara

Dawn yet?

August has winged past,

Away flew the rhyme,

September rain, not so steadfast,

Drenched I lose thy game.

 

The clock ticks with every passing hour,

Along play the chimes,

Eyelids droop, everything dour,

Slow dancing, staging mime.

 

Sharp Sun rays mock my flowery curtains,

All seasons are not spring, but,

The moon hides just behind the mighty mountains,

Is it dawn yet?

….Sara

A bridge for love

The mild breeze rustled her hair,

As tiny smile played on her lips.

Standing by the river, reminiscing,

The memories always left a tear behind.

 

She saw a distant light,

Shining like crystals hidden afar.

Like pearls beneath,

The pristine pure water of the river.

 

‘If the stars above wish,

we would meet here again.’

The words echoed in her ears,

His voice etched clear in her memory.

 

She unfisted her palm,

Revealing a stone,

A wish whispered to,

and hidden safe in it.

 

She held the stone close to her chest,

Took a deep breath,

Threw it in the river,

All her hopes tied to it.

 

Land and water away,

At another fag end of the river,

The water splashed and circled,

One more stone drifting deep beneath.

 

There were hundreds of stones,

Small and big, black or white,

But all carrying a secret,

A wish hoping to be fulfilled.

 

Spring passed taking away its very own scent,

Followed Summer with all the shine,

And then came Autumn,

Shedding all the leaves and their guards with it,

Arrived winter, locking everyone behind doors.

 

The stones knew no summer nor winter,

For they held the wishes to their heart.

When the sun came out after very long,

Everything cracked along the frozen lake.

 

With every tiny crack,

The rocks set off gliding.

Up and higher they traveled,

Yet never apart.

 

Together they rose on the river,

Connecting all the ends,

A bridge it was , that rose,

All the wishes holding it in place.

 

A bridge for hearts to travel,

A bridge for hands to meet,

A bridge for the years to come,

A bridge for love!

….Sara

 

p.c : renatures.com

The rain shall pour

The sky was grey,
and so was the water.
Spanning far and wide,
as the narrow lake laid low.

Hidden behind the mountains,
the clouds played a game of peek a boo.
Catching us when we least expected it,
hugging us from tip to toe.

As mild showers it started,
like a triggered tremble.
Pouring, it came down,
drenching everything wet.

Too much attention seeking is the nature,
so forceful is its friend, the wind,
It blows the digitally made blinds,
to turn off their screens, getting a hold.

Hot Indian snacks,
disco dance in my heart,
Circling my mind,
hard to wade off.

Good music would have elevated the mood,
yet never like the rickety old train,
Wobbling its way through the town,
Rhythmic and classic.

Dear mighty mountain,
adorning huge trees,
Dark clouds hidden behind,
secret conspiracy meet?

Are you angry or happy?
I failed to guess.
Yet, you are the best form of beauty,
I’ve ever met.

….Sara