Kept staring at the rain

I stepped out… awake now in a strange clatter;
The clatter.. as raindrops fell over my wooden hedges,
And the rhythm overflowed along with the waters.
As I kept staring at the rain… now deafened.

I could see every image that the drops reflected,
Never before had I ever seen my world so clear,
All converged in a tiny droplet of desires….
Which is so small and yet so contending
That the thirst of ages could be quenched by its mere touch.
But I still kept just staring at the rain… thirstier but content.

Then they slowly dripped down my window
Only to get lost in the ocean of many…..
But as water merges in water… a life in life..
Is the loss a loss? Individualities are merrily sacrificed
To be what they were meant to be… an element of ocean.
And I kept staring at the rains… contemplating me.

The drops fall as explosions on the surface….
As new stars get born in the galaxies afar,
Being destroyed and created… all in mere moments.
Yes, just a moment… as the whole life was now but a mere moment.
No promises were made when past said it would return…
Or that the future would ever come……
So I just keep staring at the rain… uncertain what life would be..

Its’ not that my world was never so enchanting...
I was still captivated by the lividity of the sky.
Wondered of the colours that it had; the strange moonlight.
But I could now see them only through the drops…
How can a refracted world ever be so beautiful….?
How can beauty inspire the realization of another?
How can you keep staring at the rain… adoring the wet moors?

I know not where i walk.

My life was stuck in a rush hour… and I kept walkin past the nadirs;
‘Move on’… that’s what I always did; was always asked to do…
And I loved my small world of sworn faiths.
A world where the vision was blurred…
And the elements around were but as a mist…
As winds that blow fast by you… enclosing you all over
But never letting you realise that they were ever there.

Moving on and on now I had also lost my tracks;
I knew I had to walk and so I did… never questioning my roads.
But then suddenly questions did appear… at a strange subway
I was asked to wait… couldn’t leave without answering…
But I didn’t have them… I still don’t… and I knew you won’t either.
But then was the first time I had ever stopped…
The first time my vision had seemed so clear…
A world that I had never seen before was beside me…
A strange subway… huh… I know this isn’t my stop.
Can never be… I am not allowed to wait or leave.
But I am not waiting… its just that my worlds seem to revolve.
I am walking even faster now… but every time I walk past or ahead.
The esplanades rotate back to me… for me to walk upon them.
And I hate myself for not being able to cross them…
For the fears that reside so deep… unsaid and unheard.
That now I wish as we stand together in the oceans…
That the waters must split… the currents should rise…
And Moses’ stick must befall… leaving us waves apart.
From where I can see that world… in the mirrors of ocean.
And yet know that I would never be able to reach it…
I know that the world there doesn’t need me… but
Whenever you would turn to look this side…
The reflections will always be a merry image… however dark the world might be…………..

emptiness

I enter the room and the walls keep staring at me
Long and hard…….. It seems they seek so many answers,
But I don’t have them……. The questions were often perditioned.
With nothing to offer…. I just walk within in silence
It was not that I was empty…….. just the eerie voids….
I keep sitting alone watching the larchen trees, the wind
And the hidden moon beyond….. and thoughts just come.
Beyond my own consciousness now, I let those thoughts exit my mind
And they form these verses, random and unsought…..
It was not that I was poetic……. Just the sultriness of night.
I step out and the raindrop falls right beneath my eyelids
And they in an instinct come down trying to hide it…….
But as they open, the drop slides again slowly; down my face…
It was not that I was crying…….. just the drenching rain…..

untitled yet

Livid…. That was how I was defined…
The colour blue describing identities that I held
As it also decribed the sky….. the vastness……. The freedom
So I knew I was born to be a vagabond….. to live for myself

But you spilled my colours and I was left stained
Red all over me……sparkling….. pristine
And you ask me what is it like…….?

“Like the glowing sun at the dawn?” No.
“Like the single petal that would slowly drown?” No.
“Like the feeble flame still sustained in the wind?” No.

No….. these do not define my easel now

It is a drop of red over my blue palette.
And they combine to form only black.

“Is it the colour black?....or betrayal of your own vision?
Why can’t you ever see the obvious…. The elements…. The plain answers
But interpret it only when they merge to form complexities?”