wildrose

The seed thought .. I am in the ground for a while now, Broken, almost dead, ready for rebirth... But why is that I am not sprouting? Is there no more life left in me.? The seed asked the earth. Why is that I am not sprouting? Are you not fertile enough? The earth said with a frown.. " I am fertile and tilled on severely But need moisture for me to bear you.. Come lets call to the thickened clouds... Why are they not showering rain? This longing is weary and we are barren They called and there appeared a white one He seemed to glee, at the cry of the seed The cloud replied..there are thickened ones... black and full of rain, ready to burst. but the wind is not spreading his wings to carry us and give your land the bliss So they seed asked the gusty air... Won't you bring the showery clouds To make the land fruitful and wet? The wind hurled and grumbled; It is the Master who decides my way, Call upon him..He draws yours and my path...

The feather which was once one among the flock.. is no wandering aimlessly below the stormy clouds,  the blame on fate or bearings or  demeanor? Oh...you faint feather... are you now looking for.. your course of destiny or the cause of your present??

I would be the last one wishing for my childhood days not to return Those days were used and misused like a scratch pad Few instances were written on those papers Few crumbled it....Few poked and scribbled I envied at the multicolored book lying beside My dad bought it for a price; because it was worth reading It was admired, taken care of and often appreciated Why shouldn’t it be? It boasted of its glittering pages I had ideas written on my pages, the very virgin ones Some poured out their feelings on me; evil and good But they tore me and I rested among the garbage Yeah.. Garbage is always discarded and never brought back

I asked God to make me a star.. To my dismay He made me a caterpillar... I grieved looking up at the sight of stars How glorious they were glittering and shining My head drooped down with shame Strange my life is, ugly and awful.. People shuddered at my sight ,moved away.. I dreaded my life and my future bleak.. I want to slowly drift into my solitude Away from the world, noise and dreams.. I weaved my own shell; it was deformed My shell was gleaming , I could very well fit in I glided into the pitch dark of loneliness.. Here I am secure, safe from the reality.. Darkness was scary, silent and abandoned Tears quenched my thirst and dreams fed me.. And in this stillness, a pain engulfed me.. A pain of change and I feel like new... Through a ray of sunlight that shined inside I saw the parade of colors and beauty on me.. I pushed myself out of the cocoon.. Here I am transformed to a beautiful being I am flying now....along the horizon of skies I am a butter...

I am at home, I am at work place I am in the market, I am in the church I am at the complex, I am at the mall I am at the terminal, I am at the ground I am at the conference, I am at the exhibition I am in the queue, I am at the workshop.. I am in the hospital, I am at the venue.. I am here and there, near and far.. I am no where and else where

Life is a journey and we tread through various paths.. Some paths are stony..bruising our feet.. But some very grassy, giving rest to sole... Grass is green on these paths, flowers add colors.. Tress gives shades and fruits of every kind.. Birds tweet and there are butterflies in the air.. This is where we tend to dwell and excel.. Striving not to lose our tracks.. As we paint the picture of our life.... Grabbing all ease, warmth and wealth... Stabbing those outgrow us, chopping shady trees.. Crushing green grass..plucking pretty flowers..   We leave scars and marks on the very path.. But these scars...they bear our tales... And narrate to the beings who comes very after us..

I can feel you all around me.. On my right...to hold me close On my left...to offer your shoulder On my front..so that I can run into your arms On my back..to push me forward And to pick me up if I fall.... Yea..I can feel love all around me....