26-11

Do you speak the language of the rain?
If you do, please tell me what it’s saying.
Doesn’t it seem a little sad and melancholy today?
Does it also remember what happened on this day?

Are these raindrops but tears shed for those who were killed,
for the brave and innocent, our guardians and friends?
Do they wish to drown the heartless, who with hatred filled
the hearts of the gullible to achieve their ends?

Do these dark clouds seek to remind us of the terrible past?
Are they just passing through, or are they here to last?
Is the restless, rustling wind struggling to explain,
the solitude of sorrow and the pensiveness of pain?

Does the thunder talk of plunder?
Of cold blooded killings and surrender?
Of the destruction of timeless beauty and traditions,
Of meaningless hate and purposeless missions?

Does the Sun hide behind the clouds in shame
as we continue to blame the pawns in the game,
while the kings move around freely as before,
devising their devious machinations and more?

Will we remember this day only to forget?
Or will it remind us that there is hope, yet?
That bravery, courage and valor are not dead;
they are just soldiers waiting to be led.

– Sharan Rao

MYSTERIES

Tell me of secrets and mysteries untold,
of untraveled roads and turning lead to gold;
unravel the unseen before my eyes,
tell me the truth in the language of lies.

 Take me on a journey into lands unknown,
where mermaids have walked and dodos have flown;
guide me through rivers of magical dust
that dawdle delicately from dawn to dusk.

Lead me over a bridge that crosses an abyss,
down an invisible path that is impossible to miss;
across a mountain that touches the sky,
into a cave where honest treasures lie.

Let me revel in revelations of things remarkable and rare,
bring to light dark tales that do not frighten or scare;
on the candid canvas of silence, perceptively portray,
with the brush of wisdom, the imperceptible truths even the wise cannot say.

Artwork “Forest – The End of Marmara” © DarkSilverFlame (Deviantart)

LOVE IS AN UNCUT DIAMOND

If the nature of love
you wish to understand,
think of it
as an uncut diamond
held in your hand.

Sharp,
and full of rough edges;
if held too tightly,
it can cut  you
like a blade.

Strong and eternal;
if polished with care,
it holds the potential
of a beauty rare,
one, that will never fade.

It is as ancient
as the world that made it,
and yet, seems forever new;
complex, when analyzed,
yet, so simple, it’s untrue.

JUST ANOTHER FACE IN THE CROWD

He is pushed aside by a crowd
running to catch a glimpse of a movie star;
as he gets to his feet,
he promises himself that, one day, he too will go far;
he thinks of that day, when,
by his achievements, they will all be wowed,
a day when he is no longer
just another face in the crowd.

The star gets out of his black limousine,
he looks jaded and weak;
a hundred people surround him
and scream his name out loud,
they want to touch him,
get close to him, hear him speak,
but he would rather be someplace else,
somewhere, where he is just another face in the crowd.

© Sharan Rao 2011
Artwork by smashmethod, deviantart.com

SMILES

Every time a smiling face I see,
I wonder what that smile is telling me.

For some smile to deride,
while others smile to hide,
and many a smile looks like a frown,
reluctantly turned upside-down.

Some seem to smile,
every once in a while,
for apparently no reason at all;
others draw back their curtains,
but remain hidden behind a wall.

Some use it beautifully, to say
what words can’t.
Others use it  in a way,
that gets them what they want.

But still, a smile is a pleasant thing,
and best of all, it’s free;
so the next time you come along,
do bring one for me. 🙂

Artwork © ~Bleach—Lover, deviantart.com