Silent Whispers

clouds astray,
set on fire,
a gilded sky
whispers silently,
to hush a heart
longing to meet
its desire.

A Thousand Names for Death

When the Hand of God touches down
to kiss the trembling earth,
a thousand voices scream out loud
to bring heaven down to earth;
Pain, agony, fear and loss,
disheveled cloches of Death,
how do I disrobe myself
and meet you with joy instead?
A body trapped beneath the rubble,
or washed away in a flash,
a newborn struggling with tubes and stents,
a wife languishing for her spouse;
a tree trembling as it loses a leaf,
a dog licking its pup - stillborn,
a young girl writhing with broken bones and heart,
done to death by a beast in human form,
an old man waiting alone, aghast,
at the slow decay of his self,
an old woman hobbling from door to door,
to seek the love she lost and forgot instead;
Oh! How many names do you own dear Death?
which one shall I invoke?
or should I just call you silently,
and embrace you, my friend of old?
For it does not matter
which robe you wear,
or how you come to take
each life that walks this planet Earth,
a thousand names for you at stake.

Bioscope

traffic lights
turn green and red,
trees stand tall,
and lift their heads,
marching streetlights,
blaring horns,
concrete and tar,
flowing on,
cars and bikes
race to nowhere,
people weave in and out,
no one stops, no one dares,
hoardings lure
the wandering mind,
fluid walls
left behind,
thoughts meander
back and forth,
past and future
take turns to vote,
the mind comes to rest
in the moment, at last,
the journey ends
without the cast.

Fall

have you seen
a tree cry out
when it sheds
a dry leaf that's
past it's prime?
have you seen it
shed a tear
when the fallen leaf
kisses the ground?
I wonder why
do you know?
how does it feel?
how does it know?
that life brings death
and death brings life,
when there's a fall,
there is a rise,
or does it work
with faith and trust
that everything's held
by the Universe,
with love and care
for all that is,
a rise or fall,
each is a gift.

Prayer

Oh Mother!
I see your
blood-shot eyes
glow from afar,
as I wait in line
for the moment, the spark,
to touch the vermilion
that sets my heart afire,
to empty my cup
of all wishes and desire.
I come home
to the loving space
that holds me, humbles me,
with your divine grace.
I close my eyes,
my hands close in too,
I hold a prayer in my heart,
what more can I do?
no words, no thoughts,
just an empty, warm silence,
wraps me up safe, as I
offer my all to You, in obeisance.

Life and Death

Life and Death -
just two little points
along the path
of a pendulum
that swings
in two dimensions
of space and time;
I saw that
yesterday
in your eyes,
as I stood
looking on helpless -
a mere spectator
is all I can be
as I watch your soul
draw its own path
in an unknown dimension,
on an unknown journey,
that I try to decipher
with my coloured lenses;
the only way out
is to  look at them
straight in the eye
with no hope
of a beginning or an end,
for Life is Death
and Death is Life,
two sides of a coin
tossed up in good faith.

Avatars

I used to think 
avatars
were of Gods,
not humans, until
I saw you
express yourself
in different hues,
every time
you came back
from the threshold
of death -
shedding one,
taking on another,
a hidden form
that sprang forth
from within you -
a new avatar,
every one of them
the essence of
the one and only
YOU;
how many times
are you born
in one lifetime?
as each avatar waits
like an unborn child,
for the perfect moment
to live and shine,
and express itself
in this play of Life.

Bearing the Cross

Can I take away
your helplessness,
your pain and your disease,
dwell in your deep suffering
and make it my own if you please?

Can I pull away
the tubes, the masks,
the needles and the wounds,
that your withered frame now adorns
to free your spirit that's still unbound?

Can I hug you tight
and hold your hand,
and rest my restless head on your heart,
or wait for you to caress my hair
while I try so hard to play my part?

Can I look away
or shrug it off,
and blame it on the Gods,
or sit with you in your pain,
and share the bearing of the cross?

Suffering

I sit
with suffering
yours and mine -
a shrivelled up raisin
that holds within,
the essence of Life.