I wish I can hold it closer,
I wish I had good voice to sing.
It is easy to let go,
But you need to have it to do so.
Tiny droplets from the sky,
Which caste, creed, colour
Or carbon can hold claim to it?
A never ending journey,
Who knows since whence it commenced?
I am a bubble, among such eternal beings,
It is palpable, yet unreachable,
Camphoraceous it melts away.
What can contempt breed?
Is there a word for this purity,
This sense of attachment,
To something so flippant?
An ode to the world,
One worth being sung again and again.
So it does, gracing everything,
A reminder that in itself something exists.
Every step man takes,
Is another into thin obscurity.
Yet these vapourous beings,
Float into our lives like dreams.
The moment alone lives,
Everything else tries to survive,
In our volatile memories.
Can I evaporate with these crystals,
When the sun comes out again,
Can I be transformed and ported,
To the mythical worlds of the world?
Seeing is mere illusion,
How can I ever trust, this is real?
Love is nothing but letting go
And hoping that it is.
There is nothing harsher,
There is one critique-
"This is not poetry".
But the world is beyond,
Processes- who thought out?
It is there. We can research,
But what do we find, anyway?
It offers solace,
At least to those in a scorched land.
Yet it affects many,
Lives displaced,
Yet isn't it, our civic senses' work?
What order?
Words come naturally,
A dictionary can rhyme,
but it is gullible and crass,
Work of a defeated mind.
As the rain babbles,
As the water dabs.
Magic? It is natural.
So too is belief.
So too is man.
Why restrain?
Let go, let go, let go.
If you can't dance or sing,
So what? Just move with it.
Hear it. Feel it. touch it.
Storms breed no contempt-
For cracks are found where
There is a lack of integrity.
We are one- man and nature.
Forget it; Have some solidarity.
It rains because it should.
You and me should grow,
For we should.
Your buildings are good,
You can think, but never out think.
It is not might, it is the ways.
For balance is everything-
Ignorance is no reason.
Try to hold on,
I am trying to hold on-
To these tiny things.
They seem to bullet down,
Yet sometimes, the drizzle.
But still.
How long can I hold it?
A bucket full?
A ocean full?
No way. It is it's way.
Mine is mine.
Your's is your's.
Sojourns.
Let go. The song does float.
Airs breath anyway,
So don't try to hold.
I watch it come and then go.
Who knows where?
Can I distinguish it?
Maybe that touch,
That bond?
Time moves on.
Everything evaporates.
Neither sun. Nor earth.
Only you and me.
