This is an acrostic poem penned by me. Do join the first letter of each line and see what you get.

Behind the wall,
Everybody wants acceptance –
Hopes for unconditional love.
I’m sure you are no different.
Now the truth is simple.
Do you also see?
There is no miracle.
Here is the key to the
Everlasting verity.
When you seek something,
All you have to do is give.
Let the wall down.
Let your wishes live.

I went on a journey alone
down a long, winding road.
On the way, I met some flowers.
I rejoiced in seeing their colors.
A few smiled at me cheerfully
while other prickly ones hurt me.
Then, there were the great trees.
sheilding me from gusty breeze,
with sweet fruits that I could eat,
and leafy beds for me to sleep.
The road I walked had rocks in it.
On some, I stumbled down and fell
while others let me sit and rest
giving respite to my tired legs.
As I skipped to the road’s end,
I came to a mighty, blue ocean.
In it, I swam with all my strength,
against the tides and currents.
Till I reached my final destination –
A place that was beyond description.
With no crowns or victory trophies,
just a sense of satisfaction in me,
for this journey I took by myself
is the bittersweet story of life itself.

Sometimes we are disappointed by people or circumstances. This is largely due to our expectations from them. But what if our perception and expectations could change? Here is a poem that attempts to do that.

(Please note – this is a reverse poem, so read it both ways- top to bottom and bottom to top.)

This is what I believed.
To limit my expectations!
My parents never told me-
Try and achieve anything
Like the spider and the king
I mustn’t believe in stories!
My teachers never told me
To chase all my dreams
I don’t have the strength
My friends never told me –
I deserve the best from life.
All that I heard was this-
You can’t! You shouldn’t!
The world never told me
I could work to succeed.
And this is what I believed.

Shades of crimson in the skies.
Is it a sunset or sunrise?
That isn’t the question at this time.
What matters is that I’m alive
to see these colors divine.
All my hopes are revived.
As a new day has arrived
for me to seize and make it mine.

Grains of sand make a wasteland –
unforgiving and unworthy of living.
Blades of grass form a grassland –
with scenes that are unchanging.
Trees, sod, birds, flowers and bees –
it takes these to create a garden.
And songs would lose their appeal
with just one note instead of seven.
It’s true that the differences are many,
but together, there are possibilities.
It was never ever about “you or me”.
The superpower is in “you and me”.

So what do you think is in a name?
The name that becomes an acquaintance
The acquaintance that leads to friendship
The friendship that grows into romance

The romance that creates vows
The vows that seal the wedding
The wedding that multiplies love
The love that begets children

The children that make a family
The family that branches like a tree
The tree that gives pieces of timber
The timber that forms a burning pyre

The pyre that leaves behind reflections
The reflections that dig up memories
The memories that are in an album
The album that holds some pictures

The pictures that have captions
The captions that include names
The names that live through you
So what do you think is in a name?

A message from the skies
waits to be deciphered.
A voice like yours and mine
that floats in the zephyrs.

Would the heavens ever split
along the edges and borders
of all the hues and tints
spread on its vast canvas?

Would it stop giving way
to the things that can fly,
and would it discriminate
based on a certain type?

Then, why are we divided
by these very boundaries
that give rise to hatred,
and destroy all peace?

United – we stay together
and win against all odds.
The word is loud and clear
from the blue yonder to all.

Beyond a certain measure,
what worth are your treasures?
Beyond a certain need,
your desires turn into greed.

Could you ever see the colors
of the souls that left unfettered?
Or know their race, country, religion,
food, clothes, houses they lived in?

And if seeing is really believing,
then all these would mean nothing,
for red is the blood in our veins,
and the air we breathe is the same.

The Maker did not discriminate
or create the boundaries of hate.
These were invented by a few who
never cared for the common good.

The results have always been dire,
forcing us deeper into a dark mire.
‘Til we realize the need to change –
a step at a time; it’s not too late.

For in the end, all that matters is
how much you loved, laughed and lived.
For in the end, we’ll lie side by side
like grains of sand, and blades of grass.

These are the times of the Coronavirus Disease
with both love and humanity, on a tight leash.
No kissing, no hugging, no touching, please.
Make sure the hands are 20-seconds-clean.

Will they ever be clean? Will I ever be sure?
Will I ever be able to go outside like before?
Will I meet my friends and hang out in crowds?
Will this social distancing end? So many doubts!

“Stay away!” say the wise, “It will break the curse!”
“Stay indoors, or this pandemic will become worse.”
Who is to blame? Does it really matter now?
This forced isolation has opened minds somehow.

We beg for forgiveness from Mother Nature’s fury
while some lose the fight in a battle so lonely.
Where did the souls of so many people go?
Where is our Saviour, and where is the cure?

Some say we are paying for bad karma and sins.
Do we need more deaths for alarm bells to ring?
When will we realize the simple rule of Evolution?
We were gifted intelligence to protect Her creations.

Somewhere down that road, we got really lost,
and so, here we are now, paying that high cost.
She is furious with our recklessness, so we pray
for a cure that we may walk our streets again.

The air’s clearer now; She rejoices in many ways.
In the midst of this war, did we learn anything?
Or will all this suffering and death be in vain?
A few years later, will a scourge occur again?

People – this is the word we use for ourselves.
Together we form the Collective Consciousness.
What one does affects another – this is the truth.
We need to understand this and recognize it soon.

So do not hoard – there are those who need.
The old and infirm can’t move as they please.
The afflicted don’t deserve this discrimination.
We depend on each other as societies and nations.

Will we win against this virus? Are we so sure?
During these times, whom do we look towards?
The Universe? God? The doctors? The nurses?
Or does the answer lie within each one of us?

Like the deadly Coronavirus, this debate rages
while the disease takes its toll in all the stages.
With time, this will pass and things will be alright.
While our hopes see us through this terrible night.

I once met a beautiful Sentimental rose.
It sought no approvals from this world
as it blossomed on a fair summer day
in a sunny rose garden in New Zealand.

With splashes of red on white velvet
petals tucked around a yellow circle,
it garnered the rapt attention of
countless glittering, round dew drops.

Then that evening, dark clouds gathered.
With thunder and rain, the winds battered.
While curled up near the warm fireplace,
my thoughts turned to that rose’s fate.

I woke up to the gleaming morning sun,
walked solemnly to that little rose garden,
and there was that glorious Sentimental
poised gracefully with a few strewn petals!

While some were yet so neatly arranged
with silvery drops shining on their faces.
Our conversation took place in silence as
the rose didn’t speak any other language.

“Your beauty is perfect!” I exclaimed.
“Even though the stormy winds and rain
threatened your very existence last night,
why do you smile, so lovely and bright?”

The rose nodded its head in the breeze.
As if contemplating the answer silently.
Then said, “The storm was unexpected, aye!
But to be your best…always…now that’s life!”

The hands of the clock move to five,
It’s time for me to get out of the hive.
I rush downstairs to the parking lots
for a ride home in the autorickshaw

The meter’s down; we’re on our way.
And on the road, there’s a lot of traffic.
With a loud honk, a red bus passes by:
the auto swerves – missing a motorbike.

It bumpity bumps over all the potholes
like the little cars at a car-racing show.
Now on the highway, it picks up speed
and I wobble like jelly on the back seat.

Up and down the bridges, we roller coast,
moving in a sea of loud beeps and honks.
O what a ride! What a thrilling ride it is!
In the little auto on the city’s big streets.

Here comes the house and then it ends.
The meter stops and the fare is paid.
Butterflies and prayers are laid to rest as
I look forward to the ride on another day.

The tracks were set.
The runners in place
while people watched
with bated breaths.

At the loud gunshot,
the racers were off
with fast strides to
beat the ticking clock.

As they reached the
last lap, all of them
rushed ahead and sped
with all their strength.

And then it happened –
The first racer’s fall –
A stumble – it seemed
like he had lost it all.

As he hit the ground,
he felt a hand on his
shoulder, and looked up
to see another racer

who helped him stand
and didn’t leave his side
till they both had crossed
the white finishing line.

Yes, the race was lost,
but he had found a friend.
And later, that day, he asked
him, “Why did you help?”

To which his new comrade
said, “it may seem crazy, yet
I believe – life’s about helping,
And winning isn’t everything.”