sunlight

sunlight falls gently
upon closed eyelids
I rise from dreams
and Life awakens
if there were darkness always
would I know the difference
perhaps, there is no difference
between the sleeping and the waking state
the one as real as the other
though we choose to set store by the latter
(Priya)

anew

Life begins anew
every day
It does not ask you
your age
Or what happened yesterday
(priya)

nice

If I had my way
- - - perhaps I will some day
The impossible happens
At least, it is known to happen
Though I have but dreamt of it
But rag pickers become millionaires
And icons lay bare their feet of clay
So it may happen that I have my way
To prohibit ban excise forever
From all speech written and oral
One word, but one word , so
That it does not even remain a memory
And ceases to torture those like me
Who feel - - nice? Could there be a word more bereft of meaning
There is good and there is excellent
There is joy and there is exultation
There are sorrow and misery and renunciation
People are loving or deceitful or full of enchantment
The sunrise is glorious sunset is resplendent
The sea roars or is soothingly silent
The wind blows fiercely at times
And at others is but a gentle breeze
The world is radiant or full of mystery
Fortune favours or ill favours but is never quiescent
Please oh please drop NICE from the vocabulary!
(priya)

grief

oh the sharpness of grief
slicing through memories
till the rawness is laid bare
bloodied, bittersweet
(priya)

walk away

and what if you fall in love
and realise
the story is destined for an
early demise
do you walk away
and save your heart
for another day
or do you risk the
heartache
because loving is losing
---losing bits of your self ----
anyway
(priya)

circles

i live my life
you live yours
i have my freedom
you have yours
love cannot be a prison
i passionately exclaim
you nod in agreement
and i am taken in
years pass before i realise
our lives are concentric circles
--- yours contains mine
(priya)

pot of gold

there i go again
chasing a rainbow
though i know
i never will find
the pot of gold
why do I not
for once
love a caterpillar
perhaps it will linger
chasing butterflies
is a fool's errand
too.
(priya)