visceral motion

It is a visceral feeling
the sand beneath my feet
I am sitting in the living room
curled up
by the fire
feeling the beach between my toes
the music comes blaring through the speakers
and the drums sound not unlike waves
hitting the shores
then reclining onto their mysterious centre
back in the sea
my mind conjures up images of boats
and lighthouses
ships and cruises
even the painting on the wall
shows floating vessels
all adding up
making me bob across
on the waves of my imagination
to hitherto unexplored places.....

On being ten

My daughter showed me

how to eat

candied ginger

by poking a chopstick

through it

and then sucking on it

like a lollipop

I bet you are wondering

what's so great about that

I tell you

it's great

I would go so far as to say

it's sensational

because she is

teaching me to be ten

again

to slurp

it up

and enjoy it

unabashedly

she brought me

here

in

stages

and now on the eve

of her 11^th birthday

I am learning

that

life goes in circles

not lines

and

that the greatest

enjoyment of

something

sometimes

comes from

going back there

again.

A cold, cold day

A bitterly bitter wind

The inquiring look

On the face of a cat

As I stride

Downhill

Conquering the territory

Of the unconquered

Mill

The grinding mill

Covered in layers
of 100% wool
The label
on the back
says
Merino

Yet I'm chill to the bone
and my lips won't move
the words
are stuck
on my
chilly worn out
brim
you need to
read my face
my eyes
my determined gaze
I am curious
about what you gather
and I am eager
to see it reflected back
in your stance

On the edge

On a precipice

Edge of cliff

Looking down

Into the steep drop

Ocean

Vast mysterious ocean

Hiding the treasure

Which if I have to find

 I have to dive

I cannot and I must

How shall I do this

Have you done it

Once, twice, never?

Have you stood on the edge

Of a precipice

Ever?

And wondered

Where to now?

Shall i dive

Shall i hide

Shall i run

For my life

Pray tell,

Do you know?

Have you been

To the edge of the precipice

Ever?

The Lotus Pond

no Lotus blossoms
today
only pigeons quenching their thirst
beaks a dip in the water
the sound of those fluttering wings
reminds me of a time when
i quenched my thirst
drinking from the font of Love
i am thirsty again
and need to be reminded
by these birds
that liberty and freedom
don't sprout wings
they are born of the peace
of having tasted
the Water of Life

Speaking of Shiva*

So much has transpired
perspired
expired
and come back to life
this is a dance drama
and i love it too much
to not be a part of it
the Black God
stands on one foot
and lets his locks
unfold onto the earth
a sheet of darkness
a terrible sound
splitting the universe
and then
the calm before the storm
dissolution
resolution
evolution
the Light gets switched back on

*with all due respect to the famous kannada poetry translation by the same name

The unfolding

This afternoon

the rain was kissing the earth

softly

and the lingering

smell of fresh love

was tantalizing

as we watched and waited

for the story to unfold

to see how earth

would open herself up

to the elements

we heard the sound

of one hand clapping

and we waited

and the story unfolded

and we were in the middle

of it

alive, receptive

and quite simply

mesmerized by the

wondrous unwrapping

of a treasure