Anaira’s Musings !!
- Thread starter Anaira_HH
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-- The Real Thing --
Ah, but the mystery of love,
A thing we wish to capture.
The flight of a soaring dove,
Leading to realms of rapture.
Searching for one’s identity,
In the mirror of the loved one.
Resolution to life’s mystery,
Of shadows and light spun.
Yet in the heart of love,
A shocking secret laid bare.
At the cliff’s edge a shove,
To shatter one’s inner prayer.
Love that was once fire,
Has now turned to ash.
The spear of love’s desire,
Only to vanish in a flash.
As miracle in compromise,
A mask love only resembled.
Fake smiles, the false eyes,
Mask of another assembled.
Suddenly the love unreal,
The texture of the face torn.
False love one’s heart to steal,
Now wearing a cloak outworn.
The love as seeing of the blind,
Only taste and touch aware.
Followed by feelings unkind,
The lover’s eyes only stare.
Love as an unreal thing,
Brings sadness within me.
Whereas love as a real thing,
Touches everything within me.
- - - - -
Ah, but the mystery of love,
A thing we wish to capture.
The flight of a soaring dove,
Leading to realms of rapture.
Searching for one’s identity,
In the mirror of the loved one.
Resolution to life’s mystery,
Of shadows and light spun.
Yet in the heart of love,
A shocking secret laid bare.
At the cliff’s edge a shove,
To shatter one’s inner prayer.
Love that was once fire,
Has now turned to ash.
The spear of love’s desire,
Only to vanish in a flash.
As miracle in compromise,
A mask love only resembled.
Fake smiles, the false eyes,
Mask of another assembled.
Suddenly the love unreal,
The texture of the face torn.
False love one’s heart to steal,
Now wearing a cloak outworn.
The love as seeing of the blind,
Only taste and touch aware.
Followed by feelings unkind,
The lover’s eyes only stare.
Love as an unreal thing,
Brings sadness within me.
Whereas love as a real thing,
Touches everything within me.
- - - - -
-- New Again --
Old emotions now cold,
Sad days lost back when.
Yet many things gone old,
Now back as new again.
Happiness can go stale,
Brief moments that age.
The wonder of life’s tale,
Finishing as an aging sage.
Never to happen again,
Miracles lived as a child.
Buried way back when,
All as a first thing wild.
Does a flower grow old?
Spring itself forever lives.
Old stories newly told,
As innocence that gives.
Nothing is like falling rain,
As fresh as the new dawn.
Divine mercy made plain,
As a tree in spring reborn.
Breath of life as air fresh,
Seeing for the first time.
Old/new as intimate mesh,
That tells a story sublime.
Many decisions as tortuous,
No one wants to be wrong.
Some choices serendipitous,
Indeed, here I am, still belong.
Old body, the mind still new,
Seeing as if for the first time.
Fresh wind never before blew,
Always fresh until the last time.
When I do take my final leave,
May I remember myself as young
No need on my grave to grieve,
Only echoes of a life well-sung.
- - - - - -
Old emotions now cold,
Sad days lost back when.
Yet many things gone old,
Now back as new again.
Happiness can go stale,
Brief moments that age.
The wonder of life’s tale,
Finishing as an aging sage.
Never to happen again,
Miracles lived as a child.
Buried way back when,
All as a first thing wild.
Does a flower grow old?
Spring itself forever lives.
Old stories newly told,
As innocence that gives.
Nothing is like falling rain,
As fresh as the new dawn.
Divine mercy made plain,
As a tree in spring reborn.
Breath of life as air fresh,
Seeing for the first time.
Old/new as intimate mesh,
That tells a story sublime.
Many decisions as tortuous,
No one wants to be wrong.
Some choices serendipitous,
Indeed, here I am, still belong.
Old body, the mind still new,
Seeing as if for the first time.
Fresh wind never before blew,
Always fresh until the last time.
When I do take my final leave,
May I remember myself as young
No need on my grave to grieve,
Only echoes of a life well-sung.
- - - - - -
-- Glimpse into the Soul --
The poet finds the words,
Images of beauty he stole.
Whispers of arcane birds,
A glimpse within the soul.
All the sadness, the mystery,
All the happiness, the bliss.
On a scroll, unfolding fantasy,
Each word a benevolent kiss.
The poet lifts a gossamer veil,
Breath, beauty, bliss to reveal.
The truth as wind in life’s sail,
Harmonies of an organ peal.
Ideas as petals of a lotus pure,
The silence of a panther paw.
Seeing things closely to be sure,
Precisely what the poet saw.
Out of the darkness, a sound,
Inside the darkness, candlelight.
Dim stars fall upon the ground,
As moonglow shimmers bright.
Does God exist, the poet asks,
Answer: the darkness must die.
With his pen in hand, he persists,
As a poem descends from the sky.
When God tells us what to do,
We cannot for a moment hesitate.
To draw wisdom in what we knew,
To feel God’s grace, we supplicate.
Finally, the poet lays down the pen,
The mystic reverie draws to a close.
Poem as blossom on the tip of a stem,
Silently nodding as gentle wind blows.
- - - - - -
The poet finds the words,
Images of beauty he stole.
Whispers of arcane birds,
A glimpse within the soul.
All the sadness, the mystery,
All the happiness, the bliss.
On a scroll, unfolding fantasy,
Each word a benevolent kiss.
The poet lifts a gossamer veil,
Breath, beauty, bliss to reveal.
The truth as wind in life’s sail,
Harmonies of an organ peal.
Ideas as petals of a lotus pure,
The silence of a panther paw.
Seeing things closely to be sure,
Precisely what the poet saw.
Out of the darkness, a sound,
Inside the darkness, candlelight.
Dim stars fall upon the ground,
As moonglow shimmers bright.
Does God exist, the poet asks,
Answer: the darkness must die.
With his pen in hand, he persists,
As a poem descends from the sky.
When God tells us what to do,
We cannot for a moment hesitate.
To draw wisdom in what we knew,
To feel God’s grace, we supplicate.
Finally, the poet lays down the pen,
The mystic reverie draws to a close.
Poem as blossom on the tip of a stem,
Silently nodding as gentle wind blows.
- - - - - -
-- True Silence Never Heard --
In life, true silence never heard,
Somewhere sung, tweets of a bird.
Sweet memories now in ashes lie,
The babbling child now the aging I.
Under my own roof, I quietly sit,
Behind the veil of night, a candle lit.
Passion found in the winter cold,
Phases of the moon growing old
The air still offers enlivening breath,
Never to know a moment of death.
While the light still glows within me,
The world now appears all shadowy.
Until the light grows ever more dim,
Falling far beyond the horizon’s rim.
All of life a subtle mystery did reign,
Until the final revelation made plain.
The light finally gone, in silence to lie,
And hear the truth: that I didn’t die.
- - - - - -
In life, true silence never heard,
Somewhere sung, tweets of a bird.
Sweet memories now in ashes lie,
The babbling child now the aging I.
Under my own roof, I quietly sit,
Behind the veil of night, a candle lit.
Passion found in the winter cold,
Phases of the moon growing old
The air still offers enlivening breath,
Never to know a moment of death.
While the light still glows within me,
The world now appears all shadowy.
Until the light grows ever more dim,
Falling far beyond the horizon’s rim.
All of life a subtle mystery did reign,
Until the final revelation made plain.
The light finally gone, in silence to lie,
And hear the truth: that I didn’t die.
- - - - - -
-- Quest and Discovery --
We are lost inside the quest,
We are found by discovery.
Freedom far from the nest,
Fly into depths of mystery.
On the way to one’s fortune,
A thread-bare fate richly sewn.
On a journey, events inopportune,
Confronted with things unknown.
The quest for one’s true identity,
The enigma of one’s true selfhood.
Always seeking one’s true destiny,
Fulfillment found in brotherhood.
Yet for all the expanse of the day,
Enlightenment on the narrow way.
- - - - - -
We are lost inside the quest,
We are found by discovery.
Freedom far from the nest,
Fly into depths of mystery.
On the way to one’s fortune,
A thread-bare fate richly sewn.
On a journey, events inopportune,
Confronted with things unknown.
The quest for one’s true identity,
The enigma of one’s true selfhood.
Always seeking one’s true destiny,
Fulfillment found in brotherhood.
Yet for all the expanse of the day,
Enlightenment on the narrow way.
- - - - - -
-- WORDS TO SAY GOOD-BYE --
There are thousands of ways to say good-bye;
Each one may present a different reason why.
Every language has found its own suitable way;
Leave-taking always with a special word to say.
Whether said as adios, adieu, adeus, or addio,
Always conveyed as a whisper in sotto voce mio.
A clear reference to God if there ever was one;
Leaving things to God what has so happily begun.
Hawaiians say goodbye with the familiar aloha,
An expression of good wishes and sign of affection.
The Japanese reluctant to use the term sayonara;
Literally, if the end be that way, a kind of protection.
Ciao is a familiar expression that cuts across lines;
South Africans say totsiens, an expression that binds.
The Jews offer shalom as a farewell without cease;
The Arabs say ma salaam to leave others in peace.
The Italians chirp arrivederci, until we meet again;
German auf Wiedersehen has hopes of where and when.
Certain occasions call for the expression bon voyage;
Spreading its perfume of hope like a flowering corsage.
When we take our leave, we say goodbye as if fled;
Like sayonara a sense of finality, as if the heart bled.
Most people have now forgotten what it first meant;
Goodbye was once God be with you, its true intent.
- - - - - -
There are thousands of ways to say good-bye;
Each one may present a different reason why.
Every language has found its own suitable way;
Leave-taking always with a special word to say.
Whether said as adios, adieu, adeus, or addio,
Always conveyed as a whisper in sotto voce mio.
A clear reference to God if there ever was one;
Leaving things to God what has so happily begun.
Hawaiians say goodbye with the familiar aloha,
An expression of good wishes and sign of affection.
The Japanese reluctant to use the term sayonara;
Literally, if the end be that way, a kind of protection.
Ciao is a familiar expression that cuts across lines;
South Africans say totsiens, an expression that binds.
The Jews offer shalom as a farewell without cease;
The Arabs say ma salaam to leave others in peace.
The Italians chirp arrivederci, until we meet again;
German auf Wiedersehen has hopes of where and when.
Certain occasions call for the expression bon voyage;
Spreading its perfume of hope like a flowering corsage.
When we take our leave, we say goodbye as if fled;
Like sayonara a sense of finality, as if the heart bled.
Most people have now forgotten what it first meant;
Goodbye was once God be with you, its true intent.
- - - - - -
Koi last Gift to deke jao
Wow you wrote this?
They are all mine.
Jo kehna hai humme - yehi keh dete hai.
- - Love is Freeing - -
In the garden of love,
let freedom bloom,
Where hearts can dance,
without any gloom.
For love is not a cage,
but an open sky,
Where souls soar high,
and dreams fly.
Let your love be
a gentle breeze,
That caresses,
but never tries to seize.
In its embrace,
let them find solace and peace,
Knowing they're cherished,
with every release.
Love them like
the ocean loves the shore,
With waves that kiss,
yet long for more.
Let them wander,
let them explore,
Knowing your love will be there, forevermore.
In the symphony of love,
let freedom sing,
With melodies that make
their heartstrings ring.
For love is not possession,
but a sacred trust,
Where freedom and love intertwine, and hearts adjust.
So love them in a way
that sets them free,
To be themselves,
to simply be.
For in that freedom,
true love will grow,
A bond that withstands,
a love that will show.
- - - - - -
In the garden of love,
let freedom bloom,
Where hearts can dance,
without any gloom.
For love is not a cage,
but an open sky,
Where souls soar high,
and dreams fly.
Let your love be
a gentle breeze,
That caresses,
but never tries to seize.
In its embrace,
let them find solace and peace,
Knowing they're cherished,
with every release.
Love them like
the ocean loves the shore,
With waves that kiss,
yet long for more.
Let them wander,
let them explore,
Knowing your love will be there, forevermore.
In the symphony of love,
let freedom sing,
With melodies that make
their heartstrings ring.
For love is not possession,
but a sacred trust,
Where freedom and love intertwine, and hearts adjust.
So love them in a way
that sets them free,
To be themselves,
to simply be.
For in that freedom,
true love will grow,
A bond that withstands,
a love that will show.
- - - - - -
-- Signature Smile --
His signature smile was not really his,
Its signature a formality, as frothy fizz.
For strangers, for babies, for departure,
‘So long’, I am going of a new adventure.
It takes little effort to leave a smile behind,
Even kindness bears signature in being kind.
Mother said take care how to use your face,
Evil glances are carved into lines of disgrace.
As for the intended value of a signature smile,
It takes a few steps forward, but hardly a mile.
Similarly, a person can be on the receiving end,
Another’s signature smile only feels as pretend.
I grin at a passing stranger, get a smile in return,
The feeling has its moment, but little after-burn.
If I say bye, the other’s smile glad I will be gone,
Like pulling the shades down, the curtain drawn.
Then a random hello smile like a nod and a wink,
To disappear back into a moody frown in a blink.
Even on the phone the smile that you never see,
You hear it in the voice, pro-forma, but little glee.
Oh, where then, is the real signature smile found,
With all those fake signature smiles floating around.
Where the true mirth, not just a product of whim,
Where the fullness of our joy, and not a fake grin.
From our inner depths emerges a smile on our face,
An inner feeling of bliss projecting a higher grace.
Summer found in a smile, winter found in a sneer,
Happiness found in a smile, sorrow found in a tear.
A language of the inner self no translation can devise,
The truest smile formed on the lips, seen in the eyes.
- - - - -
His signature smile was not really his,
Its signature a formality, as frothy fizz.
For strangers, for babies, for departure,
‘So long’, I am going of a new adventure.
It takes little effort to leave a smile behind,
Even kindness bears signature in being kind.
Mother said take care how to use your face,
Evil glances are carved into lines of disgrace.
As for the intended value of a signature smile,
It takes a few steps forward, but hardly a mile.
Similarly, a person can be on the receiving end,
Another’s signature smile only feels as pretend.
I grin at a passing stranger, get a smile in return,
The feeling has its moment, but little after-burn.
If I say bye, the other’s smile glad I will be gone,
Like pulling the shades down, the curtain drawn.
Then a random hello smile like a nod and a wink,
To disappear back into a moody frown in a blink.
Even on the phone the smile that you never see,
You hear it in the voice, pro-forma, but little glee.
Oh, where then, is the real signature smile found,
With all those fake signature smiles floating around.
Where the true mirth, not just a product of whim,
Where the fullness of our joy, and not a fake grin.
From our inner depths emerges a smile on our face,
An inner feeling of bliss projecting a higher grace.
Summer found in a smile, winter found in a sneer,
Happiness found in a smile, sorrow found in a tear.
A language of the inner self no translation can devise,
The truest smile formed on the lips, seen in the eyes.
- - - - -
-- Whatever Happened --
Whatever happened to the darkness,
When the night winds no longer chime?
Whatever happened to the mountains,
That we found so very difficult to climb?
Whatever happened to the dawn,
When daylight shone across the land?
Whatever happened to the dusk,
When night shows up as reprimand?
Whatever happened to the garden flowers,
That we didn’t care to take notice?
Whatever happened to the muddy waters,
That gave roots to the flowering lotus?
Whatever happened to the day,
When its daylight grew old?
Whatever happened to the sunset,
When the night grew young?
Whatever happened to the sun,
With all the storm clouds overhead?
Whatever happened to the moon,
When the heart of its light bled?
Whatever happened to the blue sky,
When the darkness of night fell?
Whatever happened to the orchid,
When its fragrance lost its spell?
Whatever happened to long-dead stars,
When their light reaches the earth?
Whatever happened to all the new stars,
Given new life since the time of their birth?
Whatever happened to all the suffering,
We thought we could no longer endure?
Whatever happened to all the happiness,
That we thought was eternal and pure?
Whatever happened to our courage,
Sinking like sand in an hourglass?
Whatever happened to our timidity,
Gathered like flower petals to amass?
Whatever happened to the glimmer of mirth,
Seen behind the lashes of the eyes?
Whatever happened to the fears,
Heard in the echoes of our cries?
Whatever happened to the thought,
That we can no longer call back?
Whatever happened to the memories,
That roam the mind ready to attack?
Whatever happened to feelings of desolation,
As if drifting away on an ice flow?
Whatever happened to our cries for help,
When no one is around that we know?
Whatever happened to the road,
When the journey comes to an end?
Whatever happened to our lives,
When we slip away beyond the bend?
- - - - -
Whatever happened to the darkness,
When the night winds no longer chime?
Whatever happened to the mountains,
That we found so very difficult to climb?
Whatever happened to the dawn,
When daylight shone across the land?
Whatever happened to the dusk,
When night shows up as reprimand?
Whatever happened to the garden flowers,
That we didn’t care to take notice?
Whatever happened to the muddy waters,
That gave roots to the flowering lotus?
Whatever happened to the day,
When its daylight grew old?
Whatever happened to the sunset,
When the night grew young?
Whatever happened to the sun,
With all the storm clouds overhead?
Whatever happened to the moon,
When the heart of its light bled?
Whatever happened to the blue sky,
When the darkness of night fell?
Whatever happened to the orchid,
When its fragrance lost its spell?
Whatever happened to long-dead stars,
When their light reaches the earth?
Whatever happened to all the new stars,
Given new life since the time of their birth?
Whatever happened to all the suffering,
We thought we could no longer endure?
Whatever happened to all the happiness,
That we thought was eternal and pure?
Whatever happened to our courage,
Sinking like sand in an hourglass?
Whatever happened to our timidity,
Gathered like flower petals to amass?
Whatever happened to the glimmer of mirth,
Seen behind the lashes of the eyes?
Whatever happened to the fears,
Heard in the echoes of our cries?
Whatever happened to the thought,
That we can no longer call back?
Whatever happened to the memories,
That roam the mind ready to attack?
Whatever happened to feelings of desolation,
As if drifting away on an ice flow?
Whatever happened to our cries for help,
When no one is around that we know?
Whatever happened to the road,
When the journey comes to an end?
Whatever happened to our lives,
When we slip away beyond the bend?
- - - - -
-- Opposites at the Heart of Things--
Why is it – at the heart of things – lies the opposite?
Why is it – at the edge of things, lies a prerequisite?
Within the heart of blue sky lies the darkness of night
Within the heart of darkness lies the dawn and its light.
Within the heart of having lies the urge of our longings;
Within the heart of lacking lies the urge of our yearnings.
Within the heart of the crowd lies the craving to be alone;
Within the heart of all sound we are toward silence prone.
At the heart of every mystery an unknown to be explored;
At the heart of everything unknown a miracle to be adored.
Love’s emotion so pure it remembers the heart of hatred;
Struggle so intense that inspires desire for feelings of peace.
Pathways lead into the heart of the forest profoundly deep;
Oceanic waves flow toward the shore as overhead skies weep.
Trails lead from the known world into the heart of the unknown;
Traces of our origins into the fabric of the natural world sewn.
The way of the world finds opposites at the heart of things;
The way of the spirit unites opposites at the heart of things.
- - - - - -
Why is it – at the heart of things – lies the opposite?
Why is it – at the edge of things, lies a prerequisite?
Within the heart of blue sky lies the darkness of night
Within the heart of darkness lies the dawn and its light.
Within the heart of having lies the urge of our longings;
Within the heart of lacking lies the urge of our yearnings.
Within the heart of the crowd lies the craving to be alone;
Within the heart of all sound we are toward silence prone.
At the heart of every mystery an unknown to be explored;
At the heart of everything unknown a miracle to be adored.
Love’s emotion so pure it remembers the heart of hatred;
Struggle so intense that inspires desire for feelings of peace.
Pathways lead into the heart of the forest profoundly deep;
Oceanic waves flow toward the shore as overhead skies weep.
Trails lead from the known world into the heart of the unknown;
Traces of our origins into the fabric of the natural world sewn.
The way of the world finds opposites at the heart of things;
The way of the spirit unites opposites at the heart of things.
- - - - - -
-- The Mystery of the Bud --
Night infinite
Day eternal;
Love intimate
Hatred infernal
The stars minute
The dawn mellow
The moon astute
The cloud as pillow
Sunrise the dying night
Rainbow colors blend
Sunset the dying light
Find the rainbow’s end
Night separates the days
The North Star as guide
The moon’s phases and ways
Stars their mystery provide
Here below such questions
What is it we innerly seek
Prone to multiple suggestions
Whose answers make us feel meek
Truth to tell when we look inside
What is it that we always find
The mystery of the bud opened wide
Our inner vision never sees blind
- - - - - -
Night infinite
Day eternal;
Love intimate
Hatred infernal
The stars minute
The dawn mellow
The moon astute
The cloud as pillow
Sunrise the dying night
Rainbow colors blend
Sunset the dying light
Find the rainbow’s end
Night separates the days
The North Star as guide
The moon’s phases and ways
Stars their mystery provide
Here below such questions
What is it we innerly seek
Prone to multiple suggestions
Whose answers make us feel meek
Truth to tell when we look inside
What is it that we always find
The mystery of the bud opened wide
Our inner vision never sees blind
- - - - - -
-- Primal Desire --
What about the primal desire of which we seldom speak,
Found among kings and queens, paupers and the meek.
A powerful urge within us that the body secretly craves,
An oceanic impulse that surges onward with tidal waves.
The oft-busy mind caught in a net with such singular focus,
Thinking of nothing else, as if driven by a swarm of locus.
The body at the mercy to the insistence of this primal urge,
The blood a flooded river to relentlessly in the veins surge.
A random meeting, a secret encounter, somehow life arranges,
A moment of utter intimacy found in the company of strangers.
To sit right on a barstool with seeking eyes ever on the prowl,
To find someone, anyone, give voice to the primal urge to howl.
Oh, for the days of innocence before pre-adolescent puberty,
When daylight filled our lives with its sweet, guileless virginity.
Eventually, the naked drive channeled into the desire for love,
To find true love, to be one with another, as a hand in a glove.
To shower the beloved with kisses, to anoint with love and bless,
Blinded by the lover, to whisper sweet nothings, the body to caress.
When finished, left alone again, as a wrung dishrag left behind,
The body wonders what happened within the labyrinth of the mind.
The unification of body and soul in a manner without measure,
To unveil the mystery of desire and love found in a cave as treasure.
Afterwards, with breath and heartbeat normal, a sense of release,
The body gives up its ghost to the spirit in an act of profound peace.
- - - - -
What about the primal desire of which we seldom speak,
Found among kings and queens, paupers and the meek.
A powerful urge within us that the body secretly craves,
An oceanic impulse that surges onward with tidal waves.
The oft-busy mind caught in a net with such singular focus,
Thinking of nothing else, as if driven by a swarm of locus.
The body at the mercy to the insistence of this primal urge,
The blood a flooded river to relentlessly in the veins surge.
A random meeting, a secret encounter, somehow life arranges,
A moment of utter intimacy found in the company of strangers.
To sit right on a barstool with seeking eyes ever on the prowl,
To find someone, anyone, give voice to the primal urge to howl.
Oh, for the days of innocence before pre-adolescent puberty,
When daylight filled our lives with its sweet, guileless virginity.
Eventually, the naked drive channeled into the desire for love,
To find true love, to be one with another, as a hand in a glove.
To shower the beloved with kisses, to anoint with love and bless,
Blinded by the lover, to whisper sweet nothings, the body to caress.
When finished, left alone again, as a wrung dishrag left behind,
The body wonders what happened within the labyrinth of the mind.
The unification of body and soul in a manner without measure,
To unveil the mystery of desire and love found in a cave as treasure.
Afterwards, with breath and heartbeat normal, a sense of release,
The body gives up its ghost to the spirit in an act of profound peace.
- - - - -