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.

EVERYTHING YOU’VE WANTED

When you let go,
when your mind is free,
when your ego is subdued
and there is no ‘me’;

you find
that everything
you really ever sought,
that shaped every desire
and every thought,
that convinced you to buy
everything you ever bought,
was an exercise in futility
and worth naught;

for everything that you’ve wanted deep down inside,
has always been there, just there,
deep down inside.

Artwork by TrollGirl @ deviantART
http://trollgirl.deviantart.com/

THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Wait, my friend! Slow down, don’t run so fast;
Can’t you see that the quickest ones are coming in last?
Sit down awhile, keep your worries aside,
And come with me on this merry ride.

Watch them, moving about as though in a trance,
Treading the same circular path again and again,
What comes their way by design or chance,
Is more often than not treated with disdain.

A businessman just kicked away a diamond that lay
In his way, he was too busy screaming on his phone;
An angry boy picked it up and flung it miles away,
Thinking it to be just another ordinary stone.

A scholar passed this way sometime back,
Looking for something he’d already found,
“If only I could remember where”, he said,
As he frantically searched the ground.

See that young woman, sitting there dejected,
In the middle of that little river of tears?
A young man is standing nearby with a lifeboat,
If only she would open her eyes and ears.

That man, must catch a bus to get on a train to board a plane;
No wonder then that he seems to be going a little insane.
A thief has just managed to nick a pretty looking purse,
But the cops have seen him at it; his day’s only going to get worse.

For this is the circle of life, my friend,
A bittersweet journey with no start or end;
It cannot be explained by the mind’s logic or the intuition of the heart,
For the faster you move, the faster you’ll come back to the start.

But this mystery has to be lived to be understood,
So get back on your saddle and put on your hood,
And I’m sure you’ll enjoy this novel ride;
Just, once in awhile, leave the circle and step outside.