I Know You Care

I know you care when you choose to pick
litter from the streets to keep them clean.

I know you care when you choose to speak
words that inspire instead of causing injury.

I know you care when you choose to sow
seeds that make evergreen forests grow.

I know you care when you choose to give
food and water to fellow brethren in need.

I know you care when you choose not to throw
chemical waste into the pristine rivers that flow.

I know you care when you choose not to spread
pollution that kills life with every breath.

I know you care when you choose not to assault
the ones who are weak and without any fault.

I know you care through what you do every day.
Your actions show more than the words you say.

I know you care when you continue on this way,
and I’ll follow you in this evangelism of caring.

Mind Matters

The mind is a trickster.
It’s like a shape shifter.
Searching for patterns
in realms of confusion.

At times, it falls in love
at the very first glance.
At times, it breaks up
after years of romance.

At times, it sees hope
in situations so dire.
At times, it gives up
after dousing the fire.

At times, it’s dreaming
of things so unreal.
At times, it’s thinking
of answers to riddles.

At times, it convinces
to walk down the path.
At times, it debates
the decision for hours.

Failures or successes –
Webs of perceptions
woven with the senses
by the lord of intellection.

What’s fruit for one man
is poison for the other.
Yes, it’s all in the mind,
my sisters and brothers.

Introspection

In moments that I can call my own,
Negotiating with my muddled mind,
Turbulent thoughts shout and echo
Reaching out for help but can’t find.
Opens then my third eye to look within,
See through the forest of confusion,
Peel away the layers that mar vision,
Enlightening myself by introspection –
Concious and deep inner examination
Till the muddy waters settle to reveal
Inside me are the answers that I seek.
Overcoming all that’s overwhelming,
Never forgetting and forever evolving.

PS: This is an acrostic poem penned by me. Do join the first letter of each line and see the word that is revealed.

On Happiness

So, since when did happiness become a problem?
Didn’t God make all of us in a likeness of His own?
We spent millions searching for a gene or chromosome,
and describing all the neurotransmitters in tomes.

Did we find the secret to everlasting contentment?
A pill, powder, or syrup to eliminate all resentment?
Could we capture exuberance in a little bottle
for a shot of exhilaration to put life in full throttle?

Why did it take us centuries to finally realize
how happiness can be manifested in our lives?
That, at times, we need to stop spinning on our axes
and seek within ourselves a state of pure bliss.

A touch, a melody, a fragrance, a taste, a picture
that revives a memory or creates a feeling of rapture.
Being thankful for all that was, is, and yet to come.
And giving away things to those who have none.

Not all of us were born with a silver spoon,
but we all have what it takes to be happy as a boon.
Just like a basket is spoilt by one rotten apple,
a smile easily spreads the jollity virus in people.

Light is best appreciated when there is darkness.
Just so, life is balanced by cheerfulness and sadness.
And if you need guidance, take a look at the little ones.
So, since when did happiness become a problem?

On the Path of Truth

It was a very simple question,
“Who ate the cookies from the jar?”
that Mother asked her children.
Three pairs of eyes looked at her
thinking about the repercussions –
the rebuke, the beating with the ruler.
The possibilities scared all of them.
Silence and fear filled the atmosphere
broken by Mother’s question again.
Till the little culprit stepped forward
and with a tremble, said, “I ate them,”
while the others thought, “He’s dead!”
Then, Mother did the most unexpected.
She smiled and hugged him, and said,
“As you spoke the truth, you are forgiven.”
What the children learned that day was –
The path of truth may be frightening,
but it is the right one to be on…always.

The Last Wish

If I ever met an old-lamp genie
who could grant me wishes three,
well, what would those wishes be?
And should I really stop at three?

I’d wish the aurochs would return
and also, the pink-headed ducks.
I’d wish the tourtes could fly again,
and cheetahs roam the Asian plains.

I’d wish there was a magical cure
for every sickness in this world.
I’d wish we had the supreme power
to realize that we are the cause.

I’d wish we did not need sadness
to know the value of happiness.
I’d wish the desire to oppress ends
and we could walk hand in hand.

The wishes I have are more than three,
so the third and last wish would be –
to make a wish for three more wishes
till there were no wishes left unfulfilled.

The Journey of a Poem

It begins with an inspiration,
a fleeting thought
speeding through the mind,
and then its caught.

The idea scribbled on paper,
then crushed and trashed.
Slowly, it starts to shape up
in the second draft.

The words play together
to build the narrative –
A similie here; or a metaphor,
create a bit of imagery.

The verses start forming
with meter and rhyme.
After writing and rewriting,
flow the chiselled lines.

Here comes the final version.
and with an artsy flair,
it is released from seclusion,
ready to be shared.

Such is the evolution
of a work of poetry
A journey from evanescence
to a joyful reality.

Desire

Deep within each person,
there lies a large reservoir
of an energy named desire,
that, to emerge, lies waiting.

Even Gods are unspared
from the forces of desire.
Such is its cosmic power
when it arises and flares.

The desire to be king.
The desire for beauty.
The desire for immortality.
The desire for strength.

In countless instances,
desire has driven
both mortals and angels
towards destruction.

Blessed are the saints
who can harness desire
like the taming of fire
in household kitchens.

Blessed are the ones
whose only desire
is to serve the Maker
through His Words.

Blessed are those
who can steadily hold
the double-edged sword
of desires in this world.

Silence

A seed pushes through the forest floor.
In silence.
The earth heals after a thunderstorm.
In silence.

An eagle glides in the vast blue sky.
In silence.
Dawn breaks through the dark night.
In silence.

A lake reflects snowy mountain tops.
In silence.
Moon beams shine through the window.
In silence.

A candle melts to spread light all around.
In silence.
Trees give shelter through their shadows.
In silence.

Silence is magic, silence is medicine,
Silence is releasing, silence is strength,
Silence is clarity, silence is powerful,
Silence is sacrifice, silence is love.

The yin to the yang of noise and chaos,
silence can enlighten and build purpose.
So, whenever vision is marred by confusion,
know that the answer lies within …. in silence.

A Story of Courage

Once upon a long time ago,
there were three young lads –
Pain, Courage and Fear.
They found a treasure map.

The gold was in the ocean
for whoever ventured forth.
And so they went a-hunting
in the sea on a rocking boat.

At the time to take the plunge,
Pain complained and hid away.
Fear decided to make the jump
but returned shivering and pale.

Now Courage dove in the waves
deeper and deeper unflinchingly.
He found the treasure in a cave,
and then lived ever after happily.

Beauty

Beauty lies in the smallest of things.
A silk cotton seed floating in the wind,
a butterfly with gaily colored wings,
a pearly shell that the ocean brings.

Beauty lies in the commonest of things.
The grace of a pendulum as it swings,
the dew shining on gossamer strings,
the light bouncing off a little earring.

Beauty lies in the strangest of things.
The Moon and the Sun while eclipsing,
the leaves turning red before falling,
an orchid bloom like a baby sleeping.

Mind not the earth as it keeps spinning.
Mind not the clock as it keeps ticking.
But, pray, take the time to stop and see
the beauty that surrounds you and me.

The Price

Is there a price for everything?
Does everything have a cost?
What then is the best bargain?
To what extent would it drop?

Lost in the maze of questions?
Take a pause to look around –
A mother’s love for her children,
a rusty memory lost and found.

The sun shining in the morning,
the fresh breeze after the rain,
the laughter of the little ones,
the sound of musical refrains.

The gurgling of flowing rivers,
the rainbow with colors seven,
a smile that sets hearts aflutter –
All these cost nothing, my friend.