Fire

 

Fire,

Always there

Even when unlit;

The dim embers,

Weakened by neglect

Yet haunting in potential—

The fear of the distant future,

Incessantly nibbling at Peace,

Yet in itself, non-existent

Aside from its dreamy landscape

Of threatening horrors—

The home of the heart,

Our first and only Love,

Doth remain with all

In invisible strength

And timeless energy,

The light of presence

Amidst the dark,

The cold.

MS22

The Curving Plane

 

Swept away

By fantastic stories

Fuelled by real passions

And tormented psyches—

 

Off to the land of

Deluded realities

And false guidance—

 

But yonder,

Yet again,

The sun doth rise,

The fiery lighthouse

Dawns on the curving plane,

(The sphere of continuity),

The bountiful rock

Of uncountable yesterdays.

A full breath of lush air

Does impregnate the night

And release the day

Of its natural charms and perfumes,

Its atmospheric gift to Mother,

Its strings and fields of oneness.

 

MS22

Counting the Days

 

Counting the Days

The fierce wind

Like the wrath of the Anemoi

Tears through the place

In powerful surges

Disrupting the dirt and dust

And the stagnant memories

Of yesteryear—

The unknown forces

Acting within us,

Awakened by those without us,

Send us scurrying

Into our dark holes of hibernation

Where unbeknownst to us

We maintain and nourish

The agony and misery of humanity—

Yet, we may once again find that spark,

That candle light, dim yet vibrant

Which will guide us into the rays of sun,

Shining down on a land and ocean

Of boundless Life,

Illuminating a sky of vast potential

And ethereal inspiration

Moving the entire earth

To glow and dance,

To breathe and pulse

On the endless day

Of days we need not count.

MS22

Wintry Symbols

Icey Winter Ornament - MS 2021

 

Wintry Symbols

The textured note,

How minute in scale,

To dissect and split

And measure the woven waves—

Yet breathing life,

The ears receive

Pristine chimes

And enchanted tunes—

The wintry symbols,

So clear in form

(The star, the wreath, the bell)

Put mind at ease

And light the heart

With warmth amidst the frost—

From macrocosmic cut-outs

To natural forms in paper,

The shapes bring forth

Their light and truth

Pointing thus to

A loving world,

A timeless

Single

Note.

MS21

(The following are some parts I cut out of the revision but feel they have some potency yet):

The unchanging Forms

With multitudinous reflections

In paper, in plastic, in gold

Do embody the unspeakable truths—

On these wintry days

When warmth we seek,

A bell, a cane, a ball, a flake—

May bring a song, a lucid tune

To light our hearts aflame.

Non-Local Movement No.8

 

Non-Local Movement No.8

The Non-Local Movement series refers to the idea of a timeless field ungraspable by time-bound cognition. The notion of "instantaneous action at a distance" is related to this.

The busy thoughts
Like criss-crossing highways
Seen from above
Course through my mind
Consuming power
And unceasing—

The Notion arises,
The quenching brook
Trickles through
Consciousness
And gently
Washes away
All confusion.

MS21

This, the 8th of the series embodies contrasting motion, in both material and space. The formless shape, only visible through the embracing wood form may move attention away from thoughts and into the spacious realm of timeless quietude.

Free Write and Poem

 

Appearance of Being No.2

 

Free write for this quiet, rainy, serene Thursday morning in Guildford, Surrey, BC, Canada, North America, America, "West" (sarcasm), Earth, Systema Solaris, Milky Way (named from its appearance from the earth's point of view).

Our own planet continues to mystify.

How much more the galaxy!

Yet a partial name from an internal perspective (as we are part of the milky way) it is. A simple and poetic description of such a majestically moving body which we can never Know—not through observable data (or even hyperlogical induction) that is. Heresay has me believe there have been and maybe are some who can access direct Knowledge of "heavenly" ("archaic" use) bodies. Is it true or a myth?, yet how much Truth do "myths" (ancient) carry? I say "boundless" amounts packed into symbols. This is why archetypal symbols found in various cultures are so "delectable".

Now, what is behind this curtain of "life". I use "life" in a presumptive way to refer to a "common" way of perceiving. I am inclined to accept the outlook from the centre, the me, to be like naming the milky way based on its appearance from a specific interior view point. This is clearly limited, fragmented and partial at best, totally false at worst.

Behind the curtain,

The metaphorical curtain,

Woven with fibres of fear—

Flashing in and out of existence

The curtain, not real

But a mode,

A description of a mode,

A mode so deceptive,

So stimulating to the core—

This spherical curtain

Within which I abide,

Nature's virtual reality,

The Cosmic Joke.

MS21

The poem is structured as if getting glimpses (like a shutter opening and closing) of a pulsating and continuous thematic object (the curtain) beyond. This enables brevity if not abrupt omission, and multidirectional approach (cubist, if you will). Did you notice the last line of the poem reflects the last line of the preceeding text?

An anecdote and a poem

 

Parallel Forces No.6

An anecdote and a poem:

For some reason, all the people I interacted with in my community today seemed to be shining internally. Can you believe it? I didn't get a "nasty attitude" from anyone! I will mention one of them: the place I ordered curry for lunch. The rice was truly beautiful. There was an essence to it—the artful way it was made echoed centuries of cultural evolution. I know I cannot make rice like that at home, I just don't have that kind of cultural knowledge and memory in me. It's like the cook was not playing the role of the cook but had the beauty of the craft flowing through his being. After eating the palak paneer, I was invigorated. The freshness and quality of the ingredients are not the only factors at work here. Anyway, the vitality which I came in contact with today oxygenated my internal flame and inspired the following poem.

Anything and everything—

The pristine clarity of Love—

Moments are moving,

Time factors not—

The crystalline World

Asks not for a thing—

The silence prevails

Underneath the act.

MS21