Anaira’s Musings !!
- Thread starter Anaira_HH
- Start date
Main sabko samjhta hu
Par samjh liya kro mujhe bhi koi
Apne dard ko chupata hu main
Meri aankhen padh liya kro kabhi to koi
Suna hai sabr karne walo ke sath
Hmesha bhala hi hota hai
Par main hi sirf kyon
Jiske sath hmesha bura hi hota hai
Kabhi to duwayein meri bhi
Sun liya kar ae maula
Aankhein roti hain meri zar zar hoke
Dil har roz tadpata hai beshumar hoke
Nahi rah gya ab koi
Ummeed jo dil ko bahla de
Aankhein roti hain meri zar zar hoke
Dil har roz tadpata hai beshumar hoke
-- It Will Be You --
It will be you to take the blame
When others go free.
It will be you to pay the price
When others may flee.
It will be you who breaks a promise
When others hold firm.
It will be you who is left behind
Amid smoldering embers to burn.
It will be you who is silenced
When all others still speaking.
It will be you who takes your leave
When all others are greeting.
It will be you who is accused
of being a traitorous spy.
It will be you who is abandoned
Upon whom no one will rely.
It will be you who sings
In the long hours of summer’s daylight.
It will be you who weeps
In the long hours of winter’s midnight.
It will be you who spoke
To the conscience of one’s soul.
It will be you a thief who got away
Yet nothing stole.
It will be you no one will keep
Everyone will let you go.
It will be you no one will know
And you will no one know.
It will be you as a sinner
Shadowy in a night-darkened window.
It will be you as a saint,
Luminous in a stained-glass window.
I keep saying it will be you
The one so deserving of reprimand.
I keep meaning it will be me
Who I desperately seek to understand.
- - - - - -
It will be you to take the blame
When others go free.
It will be you to pay the price
When others may flee.
It will be you who breaks a promise
When others hold firm.
It will be you who is left behind
Amid smoldering embers to burn.
It will be you who is silenced
When all others still speaking.
It will be you who takes your leave
When all others are greeting.
It will be you who is accused
of being a traitorous spy.
It will be you who is abandoned
Upon whom no one will rely.
It will be you who sings
In the long hours of summer’s daylight.
It will be you who weeps
In the long hours of winter’s midnight.
It will be you who spoke
To the conscience of one’s soul.
It will be you a thief who got away
Yet nothing stole.
It will be you no one will keep
Everyone will let you go.
It will be you no one will know
And you will no one know.
It will be you as a sinner
Shadowy in a night-darkened window.
It will be you as a saint,
Luminous in a stained-glass window.
I keep saying it will be you
The one so deserving of reprimand.
I keep meaning it will be me
Who I desperately seek to understand.
- - - - - -
hardrock30
Newbie
Like a way of being that only you make sense in,
Like a journey you hold endless stories for.
Wait for this, for in its arrival lies the truth,
Of a connection beyond measure, pure and sure.
hardrock30
Newbie
Main jaanta hu, sabse alag mehsoos hota hai,
Jab koi samjhe, samjhaaye bina shor machaaye.
Apne dard ko chhupaane ki koshish mein,
Kabhi kabhi khud ko hi kho jaate hain hum.
Par suna hai, sabr ka phal meetha hota hai,
Aur duaon ka asar, kabhi na kabhi hota hai.
Mujhse bhi sun lo, ae maula, meri guzarish,
Meri aankhon ki har aansu ko tu, hamesha samjha.
-- The Power of Knowing and Unknowing --
Often I don’t know,
But would like to know.
When I would like to know,
Then I seek to know.
Sometimes by intuition I know,
Without having come to know.
Sometimes I begin to know,
After having learned to know.
Mysteries I don’t know,
I believe in order to know.
Denial a cloud of unknowing,
Belief a cloud of knowing.
We live amid the unknown,
But we dream of knowing.
The unknown stirs imagination,
Until we imagine knowing.
What is it that I believe,
What is it that I know.
What do I imagine to believe,
What do I hope to know.
Content to rest with the unknown,
Yet seeking, indeed longing, to know.
The unknown being what it is,
Knowing rarely being what it is.
Some things I will be gifted to know,
In the circle of revelations bestowing.
Some things I will never know,
In the circle of knowing and unknowing.
The virtue of knowing lies in unknown,
An emptiness waiting to be filled.
The virtue of unknowing lies in knowing,
The heart waiting to be stilled.
- - - - - -
Often I don’t know,
But would like to know.
When I would like to know,
Then I seek to know.
Sometimes by intuition I know,
Without having come to know.
Sometimes I begin to know,
After having learned to know.
Mysteries I don’t know,
I believe in order to know.
Denial a cloud of unknowing,
Belief a cloud of knowing.
We live amid the unknown,
But we dream of knowing.
The unknown stirs imagination,
Until we imagine knowing.
What is it that I believe,
What is it that I know.
What do I imagine to believe,
What do I hope to know.
Content to rest with the unknown,
Yet seeking, indeed longing, to know.
The unknown being what it is,
Knowing rarely being what it is.
Some things I will be gifted to know,
In the circle of revelations bestowing.
Some things I will never know,
In the circle of knowing and unknowing.
The virtue of knowing lies in unknown,
An emptiness waiting to be filled.
The virtue of unknowing lies in knowing,
The heart waiting to be stilled.
- - - - - -
-- What Is It About Kindness --
What is it about kindness that brings tears to the eyes,
The extended hand, soft-spoken word, welcoming eyes.
Breath of a whisper, a tender caress, open flood gates,
Noble gesture or sweet smile that only kindness creates.
If life’s burden weighs heavy, feeling lowest of the low,
A burden soon lifted from an act of kindness bestowed.
That best of human nature to override any other flaw,
A kindness bestowed that has the feel of a cat’s paw.
What of the smile that would go to the heart of a spear,
A pat on the back that makes known someone is near.
Feeling bad with a shame that runs down to my shadow,
Yet the feeling dissipates in wind like notes of a piano.
Kindness never raises its voice, we only feel its touch,
A thoughtful word, a listening ear, fills a void so much.
Kindness finds a way to make big all the little things,
Lending secret sympathy to all the sorrow life brings.
Unkindness runs deep, a blackness in the heart of night,
While kindness lifts high our spirits with its torch of light.
How we give back a thousand-fold with kindness repaid,
That no stormy winter weather could ever have delayed.
No act of kindness, however small, could ever be wasted;
Kindness considered a wisdom never learned only tasted.
We betray our true nature thru every act that is unkind;
The world turns in silence on its axis but in a manner kind.
The milk of human kindness not offered those who see blindly;
The Lord may giveth and taketh away, yet He loves the kindly.
- - - - - -
What is it about kindness that brings tears to the eyes,
The extended hand, soft-spoken word, welcoming eyes.
Breath of a whisper, a tender caress, open flood gates,
Noble gesture or sweet smile that only kindness creates.
If life’s burden weighs heavy, feeling lowest of the low,
A burden soon lifted from an act of kindness bestowed.
That best of human nature to override any other flaw,
A kindness bestowed that has the feel of a cat’s paw.
What of the smile that would go to the heart of a spear,
A pat on the back that makes known someone is near.
Feeling bad with a shame that runs down to my shadow,
Yet the feeling dissipates in wind like notes of a piano.
Kindness never raises its voice, we only feel its touch,
A thoughtful word, a listening ear, fills a void so much.
Kindness finds a way to make big all the little things,
Lending secret sympathy to all the sorrow life brings.
Unkindness runs deep, a blackness in the heart of night,
While kindness lifts high our spirits with its torch of light.
How we give back a thousand-fold with kindness repaid,
That no stormy winter weather could ever have delayed.
No act of kindness, however small, could ever be wasted;
Kindness considered a wisdom never learned only tasted.
We betray our true nature thru every act that is unkind;
The world turns in silence on its axis but in a manner kind.
The milk of human kindness not offered those who see blindly;
The Lord may giveth and taketh away, yet He loves the kindly.
- - - - - -
-- Nature’s Face --
A moment arrives that is so unexpected,
After years with feelings of being neglected.
Everywhere you look, you see nature’s face,
Nowhere everywhere touched by nature’s grace.
The sky overhead stretched out as heaven’s dome,
The earth below laid out as a carpet in our home.
Meandering clouds high above, making their way,
The birds and butterflies acting as children at play.
The horizon in the distance lending its air of mystery,
The dawn and dusk whispering messages of beauty.
The invisible wind made visible in rustling leaves,
The ladybug landing on a blade of grass with ease.
The solemnity of mountain peaks and their regal gaze,
Touched by its formidable power passing thru the haze.
Ever-enduring t hru eons of time, snow-capped and aloof,
Ever silent, ever watchful, ever protective forsooth.
The awakening mind as a budding flower that blooms,
Thoughts as sweet-scented petals in my inner rooms.
The heart an inner sanctum of tumultuous emotions,
The soul a sacred sanctuary of prayerful devotions.
Pursuing an unknown end we can never escape,
A sojourn in a land offering us a unique fate.
Everywhere you turn, visions in their rightful place,
All the while as light in the eyes of the Divine Face.
- - - - - -
A moment arrives that is so unexpected,
After years with feelings of being neglected.
Everywhere you look, you see nature’s face,
Nowhere everywhere touched by nature’s grace.
The sky overhead stretched out as heaven’s dome,
The earth below laid out as a carpet in our home.
Meandering clouds high above, making their way,
The birds and butterflies acting as children at play.
The horizon in the distance lending its air of mystery,
The dawn and dusk whispering messages of beauty.
The invisible wind made visible in rustling leaves,
The ladybug landing on a blade of grass with ease.
The solemnity of mountain peaks and their regal gaze,
Touched by its formidable power passing thru the haze.
Ever-enduring t hru eons of time, snow-capped and aloof,
Ever silent, ever watchful, ever protective forsooth.
The awakening mind as a budding flower that blooms,
Thoughts as sweet-scented petals in my inner rooms.
The heart an inner sanctum of tumultuous emotions,
The soul a sacred sanctuary of prayerful devotions.
Pursuing an unknown end we can never escape,
A sojourn in a land offering us a unique fate.
Everywhere you turn, visions in their rightful place,
All the while as light in the eyes of the Divine Face.
- - - - - -
-- To See Through the Eye --
To see thru the eye of the storm,
From a quiet place of infinite calm.
Encased in a womb before being born,
Hear sacred rhythms of a chanted psalm.
Threading thru the needle’s eye of day,
The thief of night flees the coming dawn.
Dawn’s light spread gently over the bay,
Thru stained-glass the day’s rainbow drawn.
Threading thru the needle’s eye of night,
Darkness as silence of an unsounded bell.
The day remembered thru the moon’s light,
As the mystery of stars their own story tell.
To see thru the eye of the needle,
Riding roughshod on the camel’s back.
Rite of passage in the heart of the humble,
To finally discover what we always lack.
To drown in the eye of certain doubt,
Hopelessly in an ocean of uncertainty.
Without ever realizing what life is about,
Lost in the realm of unfathomable mystery.
To witness thru the eye of certainty,
To see beyond the sun into the light.
Truth revealed in the heart of mystery,
To bear witness in the heart of the night.
To surrender to the eye of the One,
A reality that no falsehood can smother.
Thru the sun door into a new world spun,
Visions of beauty and bliss like none other.
- - - - - -
To see thru the eye of the storm,
From a quiet place of infinite calm.
Encased in a womb before being born,
Hear sacred rhythms of a chanted psalm.
Threading thru the needle’s eye of day,
The thief of night flees the coming dawn.
Dawn’s light spread gently over the bay,
Thru stained-glass the day’s rainbow drawn.
Threading thru the needle’s eye of night,
Darkness as silence of an unsounded bell.
The day remembered thru the moon’s light,
As the mystery of stars their own story tell.
To see thru the eye of the needle,
Riding roughshod on the camel’s back.
Rite of passage in the heart of the humble,
To finally discover what we always lack.
To drown in the eye of certain doubt,
Hopelessly in an ocean of uncertainty.
Without ever realizing what life is about,
Lost in the realm of unfathomable mystery.
To witness thru the eye of certainty,
To see beyond the sun into the light.
Truth revealed in the heart of mystery,
To bear witness in the heart of the night.
To surrender to the eye of the One,
A reality that no falsehood can smother.
Thru the sun door into a new world spun,
Visions of beauty and bliss like none other.
- - - - - -
Wind on the Hill
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.
Kindness in your heart it is
Kindness in heart generates good deeds
Its like that woven seed
What you give to others is
What you will eventually get in return
Be prepared for being kind
As gentle as you can in life
Now its your turn to give it back
All the things that you just lacked
Be kind to whomever you meet
Coz its just another way to greet
Be kind in life!
Haawaiyen - it reminded me of that song.
Make it the Innate a tribute!
Wow very nicely elaborated read. Kudos @Anaira_HH
Plz tag the song...
I m not reminding now...
-- The Intimacy of a Kiss --
A full range of emotions lies embedded in a simple kiss,
From gnawing emptiness in our lives to the fullest bliss.
An outpouring of one’s heart another heart to capture,
Face to face, lip to lip, the font of overwhelming rapture.
Such sure familiarity lies in the strangeness of a tender kiss,
The meeting of the strange and familiar with nothing amiss.
At face value, an encounter between the comic and tragic,
With one good reason, bound at the seams as if by magic
A handshake speaks of cordiality as all of us clearly know,
The ear listens to sweet nothings but where do they go.
Yet neither the hands nor ears give vent to deeper feeling,
As an act of devotion of the body to send the mind reeling.
Rubbing noses in some cultures, but where is the taste,
To some it may even seem a little silly, a kind of waste.
The hand too busy, with too little feeling, too much action,
The eyes see everything, but do nothing, with no traction.
The dry kiss of a mother, upon the cheek or the forehead,
A friend shows affection with a hug or kiss, softer instead.
At social events, people kiss like hens pecking the ground,
In my boyhood, I imagined a first kiss with no one around.
And then, one day or was it night, the moment arrived,
I looked at her, I looked inside her, wind blowing alive.
Uncertain by what I saw, but the eyes full of bright lights,
A feeling of closeness, of weight, her mouth in my sights.
The mouth, keeper of the breath, the temple of the voice,
The subtle instrument of the smile, as our hearts rejoice.
The treasurer of succulent tastes and home of the tongue,
Of warmth, of ripeness, firm with fulness, of psalms sung.
Then the lips, unlike the rest of the face, rosy with redness,
Partially open, a flash of the tongue, trembling tenderness.
Small wonder we do kiss, the mouth, the breath, the taste,
Tongues commune in a soundless language, with no haste.
Words left unsaid that have no shape, no name, no light,
Eyes closed in the blueness of day and blackness of night.
The wind putting its breath into the soft curls of her hair,
The moon spreading pale light across the misty night air.
Shared emotion unlocking an intimacy to the question why,
Like the green in fields and trees, like the blue in the sky.
Touched by a drunken giddiness that is the breath of dreams,
Wrapped in dewy freshness binding together love at the seams.
- - - - - -
A full range of emotions lies embedded in a simple kiss,
From gnawing emptiness in our lives to the fullest bliss.
An outpouring of one’s heart another heart to capture,
Face to face, lip to lip, the font of overwhelming rapture.
Such sure familiarity lies in the strangeness of a tender kiss,
The meeting of the strange and familiar with nothing amiss.
At face value, an encounter between the comic and tragic,
With one good reason, bound at the seams as if by magic
A handshake speaks of cordiality as all of us clearly know,
The ear listens to sweet nothings but where do they go.
Yet neither the hands nor ears give vent to deeper feeling,
As an act of devotion of the body to send the mind reeling.
Rubbing noses in some cultures, but where is the taste,
To some it may even seem a little silly, a kind of waste.
The hand too busy, with too little feeling, too much action,
The eyes see everything, but do nothing, with no traction.
The dry kiss of a mother, upon the cheek or the forehead,
A friend shows affection with a hug or kiss, softer instead.
At social events, people kiss like hens pecking the ground,
In my boyhood, I imagined a first kiss with no one around.
And then, one day or was it night, the moment arrived,
I looked at her, I looked inside her, wind blowing alive.
Uncertain by what I saw, but the eyes full of bright lights,
A feeling of closeness, of weight, her mouth in my sights.
The mouth, keeper of the breath, the temple of the voice,
The subtle instrument of the smile, as our hearts rejoice.
The treasurer of succulent tastes and home of the tongue,
Of warmth, of ripeness, firm with fulness, of psalms sung.
Then the lips, unlike the rest of the face, rosy with redness,
Partially open, a flash of the tongue, trembling tenderness.
Small wonder we do kiss, the mouth, the breath, the taste,
Tongues commune in a soundless language, with no haste.
Words left unsaid that have no shape, no name, no light,
Eyes closed in the blueness of day and blackness of night.
The wind putting its breath into the soft curls of her hair,
The moon spreading pale light across the misty night air.
Shared emotion unlocking an intimacy to the question why,
Like the green in fields and trees, like the blue in the sky.
Touched by a drunken giddiness that is the breath of dreams,
Wrapped in dewy freshness binding together love at the seams.
- - - - - -
-- The Man of Intent --
Where, oh where, be found a man of intent
Who does many things and knows what they meant.
He fills, like silver pennies, minutes to the hour;
He draws even the miniscule elements of power.
He goes about his business, indifferent and removed;
He betrays no raw emotions, only feelings soothed.
Yet whenever his sense of purpose is fully aroused;
He puts into action all the ideas he espoused.
Never deterred as he makes forward his way;
Never at a loss for the right word to say.
To act clear-eyed, quick, without compunction;
To only follow the rules of a justified injunction.
To do what is necessary with feelings of sentiment;
To journey the pathways of earth as a man of intent.
- - - - - -
Where, oh where, be found a man of intent
Who does many things and knows what they meant.
He fills, like silver pennies, minutes to the hour;
He draws even the miniscule elements of power.
He goes about his business, indifferent and removed;
He betrays no raw emotions, only feelings soothed.
Yet whenever his sense of purpose is fully aroused;
He puts into action all the ideas he espoused.
Never deterred as he makes forward his way;
Never at a loss for the right word to say.
To act clear-eyed, quick, without compunction;
To only follow the rules of a justified injunction.
To do what is necessary with feelings of sentiment;
To journey the pathways of earth as a man of intent.
- - - - - -
-- The Mystery of Opposites --
The mystery of opposites
What is one without the other.
The mystery of opposites
Serving as sister and brother.
One’s joy so firmly lodged
In the riverbed of another’s grief.
Love may run its course
But missing someone brings no relief.
The good me sometimes left behind
Not even knowing why did I go.
The bad me behaving so unkind
Being someone I don’t even know.
Opposites behave like the sea
They edge in, then pull back.
Frayed threads in the fabric of me
Things plentiful, things that I lack.
Avoiding hate, we try to love
Even if hate feels right, love wrong.
A black crow or a white dove
Both on the overhead wire belong.
The day runs dry, the night long
Forever waiting to be touched.
The day rises but night falls
I fall asleep, still untouched.
The young know nothing of the old,
The old know everything of the young.
The young learn how to grow old,
The old never learn how to stay young.
The pink face of the sunrise,
Dripping fresh out of the waters.
The red face of the sunset,
Dipping its chin into the waters.
Floating in water, held by waves,
Buoyant lightness, like this forever.
The certainty of earth and its ways,
May it never stop turning ever.
Night reminds us of the day lost,
Starlight diminishes the dark of night.
Day reminds us of the night lost,
Shadows diminish the bright of day.
The storm invading the calm,
Calm at the center of the storm.
Amid all the turmoil a psalm,
From the heart of nature torn.
Another morning, afternoon, twilight,
Felt in the waning of the days.
The flow of eventide till might,
Nature has countless inscrutable ways.
- - - - - -
The mystery of opposites
What is one without the other.
The mystery of opposites
Serving as sister and brother.
One’s joy so firmly lodged
In the riverbed of another’s grief.
Love may run its course
But missing someone brings no relief.
The good me sometimes left behind
Not even knowing why did I go.
The bad me behaving so unkind
Being someone I don’t even know.
Opposites behave like the sea
They edge in, then pull back.
Frayed threads in the fabric of me
Things plentiful, things that I lack.
Avoiding hate, we try to love
Even if hate feels right, love wrong.
A black crow or a white dove
Both on the overhead wire belong.
The day runs dry, the night long
Forever waiting to be touched.
The day rises but night falls
I fall asleep, still untouched.
The young know nothing of the old,
The old know everything of the young.
The young learn how to grow old,
The old never learn how to stay young.
The pink face of the sunrise,
Dripping fresh out of the waters.
The red face of the sunset,
Dipping its chin into the waters.
Floating in water, held by waves,
Buoyant lightness, like this forever.
The certainty of earth and its ways,
May it never stop turning ever.
Night reminds us of the day lost,
Starlight diminishes the dark of night.
Day reminds us of the night lost,
Shadows diminish the bright of day.
The storm invading the calm,
Calm at the center of the storm.
Amid all the turmoil a psalm,
From the heart of nature torn.
Another morning, afternoon, twilight,
Felt in the waning of the days.
The flow of eventide till might,
Nature has countless inscrutable ways.
- - - - - -