I Am –

The Wind, the Fire,

The Mountain, the Speck of Earth,

The Form, the Formless,

The Thought, the Inconceivable.

Copyright@Preeta Chandran

Rest in peace, little flowers
(A tribute to the innocent children killed in the horrifying Peshawar school attack)

Today the world is poorer,
By the loss,
Of your laughter;

Today the world is darker,
By the loss of the light,
Of your gleaming eyes;

Today the world is colder,
By the loss of the warmth,
Of your trusting heart;

Today the world is more dismal,
By the loss of the sounds,
Of tiny feet running around,
By the loss of the hopes, the dreams,
The innocence,
The fragrance.

Rest in peace, little flowers.

The Diva

From behind her lily-white veil,

Lined with silver sequins,

Today the pretty moon,

Plays hide and seek with me;

Out she peeps, at first shy,

Then flashes at me, a bewitching smile,

I ask her, if my friend she’ll be,

She nods, and disappears behind the veil;

I’m so in awe, O Diva! I say,

Of your beauty, ageless,

Your grace, so alluring, and your fame,

O Muse of love struck poets;

She looks at me,  and says, with a laugh,

No fame I seek, my dear friend,

All I desire, is to light up your world,

When upon it, blackness descends;

My joys are really simple, small,

And I know not what you talk about,

I live to dispel darkness,

Hopelessness, fear and doubt,

And with that this Queen of hearts,

Casts off her veil and steps out,

And as the lights slowly dim,

She shines – splendid, radiant, glorious…

And reigns, the Diva supreme.

Alma

From my brush to my canvas,

My pen to my verses,

I created You,

In my own likeness.

You are the mountain mighty,

And the blade of grass,

You are the whole,

As also the part.

You are the body,

You are the soul,

You are the symphony,

You are the notes.

The ocean you are,

And the drop tiny,

You are Yourself,

And you are Me.

The life of my painting,

The soul of my verses,

You are love,

You are bliss,

Pure Consciousness,

One with the Universe.

Life is Beautiful

Life is like a colorful brocade,

An intricate weaving of hope and despair;

Here and there, a darker shade,

And a touch of brightness elsewhere. 

Oh!How we love it at its best,

When it's peaceful like the placid sea...

But oh, for the heart that can't face the tempest,

Death is a fear, life, an agony. 

We might reach a barren desert,

When we'd hoped to see a pasture green;

But joys and sorrows are two banks,

Of the river life flowing in between. 

Like the rose, a beauty in spite of the thorns,

Like the lotus that blooms even in a swamp;

Welcome both the Spring and the Fall,

Like the homeless and the wandering tramp.

So gear up, scale yet another mountain high;

If courage fails, look up, you'll know;

That even the glorious evening sky,

Has a cloud on the azure glow!

Because...I Love You So

Ever since you crossed the threshold,

And walked into my life,

Took my hand in yours, and said,

Forever you'll be mine,

I wonder,

When you take me in your arms,

And look into my eyes,

Do you see in them a hope,

That you'll never let me go,

Nor ever walk away,

Because...I love you so.

The Sunshine Girl

One, two, three, four, five...

Counted out the little girl,

Her face alit, shining,

Radiant - like a pristine pearl.

The five petals, she gently stroked,

With fingers nimble and delicate,

The reds of the petals blending,

With nails coloured a similar shade.

Suddenly, the lovely face clouded,

"Such a pretty flower, separated from the tree,"

And just as sudden, with a smile,

"Perhaps it's here, just for me?"

The shoeflower, she picked up from the earth,

And tucked it in, in her plait,

Her sunshine smile warming the heart,

On a cold, chilly winter day.

The Silver Oak

A dew washed morning,
The last whiffs of Winter, still unyielding,
Even as Spring readies itself,
To cast around its Midas touch,
And paint the sprawling hillside lush,
A reckless riot of colours.
Dainty sunshine, playfully dancing,
On dew drops cradled by the grass,
Pageants of butterflies, on scaffolds of flowers,
And adorning the fresco, like a masterstroke,
Its virgin buds raring, to burst into blossom,
Is the regal, sublime Silver Oak.

All I Want

All I want, is a smile,
To play on your lips,
Not just when I'm around,
But even, when I'm not,
And if the tears, feel hard to stop,
Place your hand, over your heart,
And know that I've been,
There all the while,
And even through the tears, you'll see,
Finding its way to your lips,
Is a tiny little...smile.

Toothless Smiles

You snuggle into my arms,
And flash at me, that impish grin,
I feel my heart flutter within;
Your tiny nose crinkles up, A
And I catch that twinkle in your eyes,
My heart, it now soars to the skies;
Your gurgles and your oohs and ahhs,
And that oh, so charming, toothless smile,
Reassure me everyday,
That life is beautiful and worthwhile.

I bury my head in your lap,
Lovingly, you stroke my hair,
I forget all worry and care;
And so it has been all this life,
My burdens that you shouldered, forever with grace,
I see them now, in the lines on your face;
In the silver of your hair, in the gray of your eyes,
And in that angelic toothless smile,
I see all the love I need,
To run yet another mile.

The Emperor's Dance

I feel on top of the world, the words echoing in my mind,
“You dance like a dream…” “Grace personified…”
My heart swells with pride;
I’m oblivious to the overcast sky, and to the gathering clouds,
Still full of myself, recalling the applause,
A rumble in the skies jolts me to the present,
It is then, that I sense the excitement,
In the heady fragrance in the breeze, and the murmur of the trees,
In the chirping of the birds, as they return to their abodes,
All around me, I sense anticipation,
As if, the Universe is in preparation,
Of what………….I wonder?

And then I witness his grand entry,
Head held high, gait befitting his royalty,
Resplendent in robes of blue and green,
The murmur, the chirping, they all die down,
And the first drops from heaven fall to the ground;
I see him starting to tap his feet,
The plumes now beginning to shiver,
As the drops now come down quicker,
He does a perfect pirouette, as I stare wide-eyed,
And spreads out the plumes, I’m mesmerized;
He sways, he dances, moves perfectly timed,
To the rhythm of the falling rain,
The chirping, the murmur, they begin again,
They build up, and now reach a crescendo,
I stand rooted, drenched from head to toe,
The lights, the drums from the Heavens above,
And on the Earth, a stage so pristine,
In the dancer, a grace, a divinity unseen,
The courtesans, now without restrain, they sing,
For today, the dancer is none other than the King,
Today, he dances, One with the Universe,
A celestial marvel, divine and glorious,
“You dance like a dream”, so meaningless the words seem,
“Grace personified”, so misplaced was my pride;
Blessed am I, to behold you, O Supreme Dancer,
I bow before you, O King, O Emperor.

It is time...

Confined to the hospital bed,
I breathe fear, anger, dread,
Eyes brimming with unsolicited tears,
Mind reliving a turbulent year,
The road has been rough, the journey tough,
Few peaks...and countless troughs.

Heart shutting away the sounds of a bell,
Chiming in the ancient temple,
The endless prayers, the incessant chants,
The priest's words, the crowds rants,
Now, a strain of melodious songs,
A corner of the heart, now slowly longs,
To open up, let in His radiant light,
To hold His hand, trust Him to guide.

Once again, I hear the bells chime,
And somehow, I just know it's time,
To let The Light dispel the fears,
To let The Hand wipe away my tears,
Breathe hope, let go, and look ahead,
Forget the pain, the anger, the dread...

With tears once again - this time, of gratitude,
I thank Him - for getting me safely to the hospital bed.

Lend Wings to My Dreams

I look up at the skies,
With longing in my eyes,
Searching...
Ahh! There...I see my friends,
And I dream once again,
Of conquering the heavens,
Behind these bars, my wings ache,
For the flight that they long to take,
I pray to Him for a kind soul,
To come my way and open the door,
Set me free from these iron beams,
And lend wings to my dreams.

Oh God, I am in love!

I take him into my arms,
And the world around me, fades into oblivion,
I ache all over and pull him closer,
Little fingers curl around mine,
In a moment so eternally divine,
Perfect little eyes and nose,
Perfect little fingers and toes,
The heartbeat, the rhythmic breath,
A lease of life, sprung from my own womb,
And I think again,
That all the pain,
Has been worth it,
If there's pure bliss, it is this, it is this, and it is this,
Oh God! I am in love...smitten...besotted.
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Also at: http://www.museindia.com/viewrep2.asp?id=35319

Happy Birthday, Krishna

Happy Birthday, dear Krishna, my friend, philosopher, guide,
My protector, my companion, always by my side;
You've been there for me ever since I remember,
In you I've found a sibling, an elder brother,
Walking along with me when life is a bed of roses,
When the path is strewn with thorns, carrying me on your shoulders,
Playing silly pranks on this little sister of yours,
Holding my hands when I feel scared and lost,
Listening to my complaints, always with a smile,
Even when I've been unreasonable all the while,
Watching over me, even as I peacefully sleep,
Knowing that my little secrets safely you will keep,
Your janamdin dear Gopala, is a special occasion for me,
Please accept this little gift of love on Janmashtami.

The Canvas

A shroud of grey on the canvas above,
Bringing forth showers of blessings and love,
The sleeping earth springing to life,
A million greens coming alive.

Shyly peeping from behind the shroud,
Mustering courage, and stepping out,
A smile spreading, one end to the other,
A royal welcome, a garland of seven colours.

Slowly the canvas, changing again,
Strokes of white, rising up like waves.
Expanses of blue, like the seas below,
Splashing over to a grey sea shore.

Suddenly, a million hues of red,
Yellows and saffrons, carelessly painted,
Peaches and pinks, splashed recklessly across,
Behold! The masterpiece of them all.

Finally, the Artist covers the canvas,
With a black veil decked with gems and studs,
A new day will dawn, and yet more new art,
And new masterstrokes to bewitch the heart.

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View pics of the Canvas @ http://picasaweb.google.com/preeta.chandran/SkyTheCanvas?feat=directlink

Taken from my Bberry during a walk in the park on a beautiful monsoon evening, which also inspired this poem

The Pine

Lone, solitary, tall, and majestic,
The Pine stands there, looking so proud,
The sky above, the hills beyond,
And caressed gently by a cloud.

As I look out of the arched window,
I think she looks beautiful and fine,
Without a care in the world, she stands,
And I realize, I so envy the pine.

Swaying gently, she flirts with the wind,
And romances the golden morning rays,
She lets the dew drops kiss her gently,
And tantalizes the sky with her charming ways.

And suddenly, I realize, I too can be free,
I'm a prisoner, a slave, only to my thoughts,
My soul, can it be chained, if it refuses to be?
I open the door, and then, I step out.

I spread out my arms and look up at the sky,
The sun now smiles warmly at me,
A song fills my heart, a light, my soul,
I dance with the universe, to the eternal melody.

Nature's Music

With the first rays of the sun,

Begins nature's symphony, her song,

Chirping happily, as birds welcome the dawn,

And the larks and the cuckoos sing along.

The melodious notes of the nightingale,

So pleasant, so beautiful, and oh! so fresh,

Stirring within me something humane,

Some feelings, unknowingly put to rest.

The twitter of a sparrow, or the cackle of geese,

The quacking of ducks, or the cock's waking call,

The cawing of crows, the humming of bees,

The gurgling sound of a waterfall.

With the first drops of rain,

Peacocks dance to nature's tunes,

Once dry rivers, now gurgling, their musical strain,

The murmur of trees in a breeze so cool.

The cuckoo announcing the arrival of Spring,

The gifted musician in Queen Earth's court,

The Queen she praises, in a voice so charming,

Or perhaps, she signs of the glory of God.

In a peaceful, cloudless, moonlit night,

The musicians all go to rest;

And all around descends a quiet,

That again they may strive to give their best.

And day after day, year after year,

Eagerly, I switch on to nature's music,

And howsoever much of it I hear,

It seems ever new, ever fresh, and ever unique.

Life, Will Yet, Go On and On

Moist is the grass, on a winter morn,
But moist still, are the eyes that mourn,
Deeper than the deepest of oceans,
Is the sorrow of a being, forlorn.

Echoing neither far, nor deep,
Silently, that Soul weeps,
Those tears could melt the stoniest of hearts,
But peacefully, the rest of mankind sleeps.

And so it is, year after year,
With no one to wipe away those tears,
For happier times of days gone by,
Are but today, just memories dear.

And howsoever wretched life may seem,
There is no choice but to strive alone,
For, though one life today may end,
Life, will yet, go on and on.

Beauty

Beautiful is the dark night,
Black, as black, as ravens,
Bathing by the twinkling light,
Spreading over the heavens.

Beautiful are the morning rays,
And the glistening dew drops,
The end of darkness in which the world lay,
And the dawn of ever new hopes.

Beautiful is the vast blue sea,
With mysteries hidden down below,
Sometimes a picture of tranqulity,
Sometimes in a rough and turbulent throw.

Beautiful is life, a gift of God,
He can appreciate it, who has flair,
To admire a delicate petal of rose,
Or the cascade of a maiden's hair.