I use to think what for ? You see! The question rang a bell.
” How Great Thou Art ? ”
So I have tried hopelessly to give the idea some language make-up.
A ballet dancer amidst black swans, Such is her existence, such is her form. Twisted and crouched by her vows, She made in her adolescence. She shines at night with her maids, bunch of lamps scattered in the dense. Cheerful winters in the tropics begin to set, She remembers now her guests avidly Changing her gowns for the migration is about to commence They say she has chosen three as in variety. She will be busy marking destinations for eyes in the skies. To let them know about lodgings in the open. She has waited all the year, now cometh her loving spies.
Let them fly into our Ramsar sites Let them call on there sub-continent vacation plans I will want them to stay, I will want them to feast
And once the winters are over, they will retrace For the summers here have burnt me So they see and have left ! But she doesn’t want to let go off those westerners. Because she knows of the hideous gases that have begun to plague.. No different are homes across the globe All burning, All in the natural decay. She hopes they would be back For room’s plenty in her sanctuary So she wishes, so she believes, our lady in the forest..
I have been writing in hindi quiet a lot lately, it has this uplifting effect just like it is with our mother tongue. What makes this one necessary to be pressed is its simplicity and dreaminess, so much attached with it.
मस्त चले हँसो में दो पंख मेरे भी
बेताबी की झील को आकाश से चूमता
कल्पनाओं की स्वर्णिम धूल उड़ाता
उस पागल हँस की चाल को किसने समझा
नम हुई आँखों का सुख जाना किसने देखा
क़ैद होना ना हो जाने सा है
इस शोर में एक आवाज़ मेरी भी
गुम हो जाना चाहू तो पागल हु
बेपरवाह पगलमन मेरा यू आज सामने है
मन की निभृत्तम गहराईयो में देखो चला एक रास है
जागते जागते सवेरा होने सा आभास है
माया में लिप्त ये स्वयं से दर्शन है
बाक़ी सब प्यास है
बाक़ी सब प्यास है।
इतना कह दिया तो पागल है
कोई कह दे! ये पड़ने वाला पागल है
लेकिन इच्छुक सिर्फ़ नादान है
ये मन नादान है
नहीं समझता की वर्तमान की भव्यता ही समाधान है ।
बाज़ारू दुनिया में लो!
अब आवाज़ एक मेरी भी
प्रॉपगैंडा की एक दुकान लो मेरी भी
मैं उन गहराइयों में उतर आया हूँ, जहाँ पूँछ ना रवि कि है।
वसुंधरा का ताप सहज ही समेटे, मन एक सागर सा है ।
दर्पण है, स्वयं के संदर्भ में परम के दर्शन हैं।
क्या ये मेरा मन है, या ये तेरा मन है ।
कवि हतोत्साहित है विश्व की रुचि-शुचि से ।
क्या सुंदरता का श्वेत ही रंग है ?
क्या महानता का एक ही आकार है ?
मन के घर्शन-आकर्षण के बीच का ये मंथन ही तो जीवन है ।
इस में ना मैं देव हूँ ना दैत्य हूँ ।
कूर्म हूँ, चतुर्गति हूँ संतुलन मात्र के लिए, सृष्टि के विचार मात्र के लिए ।
ना ये मेरा मन है ना ये तेरा मन है ।
किंतु कवि तो सरल हृदय है, इस दुनिया को नहीं पूछता,
कवि के लिए सिर्फ़ मंच ही अनंत है, जानता है ।
माया से ही तो उत्पन्न ये प्रपंच है ।
ये मैं किन गहराइयों में उतर आया हूँ ?
क्या ये तेरा मन है, क्या ये मेरा मन है ।
ये मैं किन गहराइयों में उतर आया हूँ ?
ये मैं किन गहराइयों में उतर आया हूँ
River blooms green
Between water lily stars.
Tender water moss
Dart amid the bobbing
Carpet of green.
Water striders flee.
A hush falls as
The great blue heron
Lifts its wide wings.
He beats the air from his
A redwinged blackbird
Flashes red and yellow stripes
Among the elderberries.
Mrs. Mallard pecks at
A Canada goose stands
On one foot in the shallows.
The current carries us
Toward the sea,
The light in our eyes.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: I’ve been boating with the kids for three days straight. They took to stand-up paddle boarding. They might never canoe again.
My words seem miserable and the language’s expressive capacity fails to acknowledge this great phenomena. Humans as we know are capable of achieving the impossible ( why call it the impossible then ? ) but the root of our existence is love. Its fundamentals can be derived from our harmony with nature, the great Darwinian thought of natural selection proves the beautiful quid pro quo that we established with mother earth in our early existence. Love is the ‘unconditionality’ of existence, the bitter-sweet melancholy of our life. To understand love as a universal phenomena we first need to set aside the ‘geocentric’ thought propagation and look ourselves as a part of the whole and not as exploiters ( though it is not so! green? ). Recognition is by itself a derivative of intelligence which pervades every life form. Brothers and sisters, it signifies that even ‘Living is love’. Every breath we take is an ode to our existence and correlation with this cosmos. Vedantic literature further pursues this thought and gives the philosophy of ‘brahm’ that we are all essentially part of one great energy, this world in all its forms is made of five elements and hence any indifference is illusory. Thinking an ant to be different or subordinate in its being is nothing but stupidity ( seen yourself stuck in a traffic jam from bird’s eye view, Weeping ants! ).
‘ Born out of love Bred in love ,
Yet I Search in madness outside
Forgetting the reason of my being
I am lost in inspirations
Looking everywhere but inside
Where is the contemplation?
Who am I? What am I made of?
Its elementally love.. ‘
Love is synchronisation therefore it is said that sex is a divine art and spirited activity because it is an union of two energies. I have for long perceived women as the greatest form of ‘maya’; fabric of this illusory world. She is not just the power which creates but also which nurtures much like mother earth. Man with all its pomp is the enabler of diversity. What is love I ask? Love is to see, to hear and to feel. Simply, the redness on your cheek is love.
Why is it so hard to reconcile events which have lead us here ?
Trees and streams, That dream of a house nearby. Whistling woods and singing fauna, That dream of a secret life, somehow. Silenced echoes from the city Intermingle to be a Reminiscence As we prepare to at last answer What life is ? All that it is ? All that it could be.
After all it is us in a world not made for us.
Yes we are here and ‘now’ is the apocalypse for desires.
When this exponentially multiplying spoked wheel stops.
It will show herself
Behind the veil of maya, a field of unperceived consciousness.
For mass was always energy
Matter the lowest cosmic pedigree
Speed of light, being and existence.
Where have we come ? Together my brothers and sisters.
So true. Once I had this gold fish. I kept her bowl nice and clean. Fed her at the right time, in the right amount. One night I was feeling troubled because of my academic issues and other problems. Suddenly I switched the lights to see how she was doing ?
She was there. Swirling in the waters. Just like always. I learnt not to be worried. I learnt to keep the bowl nice and clean. Not just hers but mine too. Our mind is something like a bowl. It’s nature is to contain. But the gold fish is not the bowl. We are Neither the body nor the bowl ( the world ). We are what fills it. Life.