Saturday, March 28, 2015

The Kapok tree

The blessed Kapok tree, standing tall though a long slumber
Displaying its wares to the clouds, buying raindrops
That feed its flock of green, for there is no respite
From the need for air, in this comfortable incubator few wish to leave

These cathedrals of the Amazon, living proof
Of the power of silent workers, witnessing the rise of rivulets of sap
To greet a deluge from the skies, a daily gift
In that humid world, water is everywhere

Prerequisite for a testing ground for the fittest
Athletes of nature, each competing for a shot at glory
A crowning achievement not recognized
Till the earth has seen a few more moods of the sun

Hidden in the thicket, is a sure means of escape
A lost tribe may not know any better
In that isolated world, conflicts easily arise
The mind struggles to evolve, unwilling to wait

Thursday, March 26, 2015

A magnet's aura

The curtain to the backstage remains hidden by changing colors in the day
No such surprises at night, if only an owl could watch
Not many can turn their heads all the way back
Tethered by eyes seeking escape

From tight strings intertwined by constrictor knots
Windows given to us not large enough to feel the pulse
Of a good life that seems to quickly pass by
Reversing this entanglement is left for another existence

Like a magnet that never fails to attract
The doors to the storehouse will surely open
Circumstances flood in looking for the perfect fit
Easily claiming victims with tailor made sorrows and joys

The hapless mind runs out of shelves to store them all
Longing for change of careers, to one that offers a peaceful transition
From day to night, currently an effort laden enterprise
The scales weighing this don’t have atoms as building blocks

Monday, March 23, 2015

A race worth winning

A rolling start gets the race underway
Around an ellipse holding everyone’s attention
With engines failing to tire, brakes aren’t needed
Fast or slow, the journey never stops

Through tunnels, mountains may be traversed
If already dug, the job’s easier
Connecting north and south
Ideals are raised, as the southerly traffic thins

Like wisps of cotton, only the lightweights rise
Struggling to stay on course for even a loop
With no traction on the road, hoping for merciful winds
Their rise or fall, banking on how the budding wings are tipped

The engines fire when the racers are ready
From mighty galaxies to a tiny thought
Everything revolves around a track
The center is dark, so are troubling thoughts

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Reflecting on a mirror

The world is turned upside down
Not through darkness but by light
When hidden in the recesses of the heart
What is a mirror going to show?

Amusing spectacles would be worthless without the flame
Turning ice into water
Blowing bubbles in the silence of space
Is not a child’s play

Walking on clouds backlit by auroras in the north
Is a flight of fancy, but such is this place
A rocky outcrop with a sky for a Stetson
Holding fiercely competitive heat at bay