Silence of love

A silence of work
Where the grunts are all that be.
A silence of quiet,
Where the smiles of the sad lie.
A silence of stone
To take all the hurt in.
A silence of water
And in flow of life none be.
A silence of the stoic
Taller will the willows be.
A silence of work
To forget all that is.
A silence of words
For when truth may hurt.
A silence of pain
For then blame is gone.
A silence of love
To lease loved ones a life.

By me

And when the blind would see,
For then the ripples would playful be.
But then hope is yet to be forlorn,
These blind eyes shed no tears or glee!
That what I found was never lost,
This heart yearns for that it fought,
The breath that my summer was,
Forever in lost songs will be sought.
Of dark is not love born,
Nor into the dark will it be,
The moments that shone bright,
To my grave will lie by me.

Tales

With the dew, the song did start,

With the thaw, the song did grow,

In all hearts that warmed,

But them, the flints, smile slow!

Them that the waves wearied,

With time, still does the blood flow.

The red still be in those veins,

Those that are but etched deep.

Of all the water that has passed over,

Them, the bards do not sleep.

That sky of those days, be that blue,

These mirrors veil, time tells true.

Them be but the tales of a winter,

Be but flighty whispers this spring!

Those tales that the old bards told,

Newer tunes do bolder hearts bring.

The old chapters been buried now,

Old love, old hearts loosely sold.

Voices of reason for shiny toys,

Flights of reason for lovers bold.

Oh that we would love and forget,

For forget we do to love again.

Those deeds be done, be tales now,

To be buried, forgotten and laid low.

For the pages still be and 

Ink there is to fill!

We will start a new story,

Sing a new song, we will!

For we are but men, in images of gods,

Them we built, them the fickle lot.

A grand story always ends in circles,

Them, those tales will always be.

Those tales have always been old,

Old tales of newer days, will always be!

(PS: Why do our tales never change! )

In Repose

Of a dear old friend,
So many tales be to tell.
A few pictures and the few words,
Of forgiven love and forsaken swords.
On grand old graves we swore,
A friend forever is a friend no more,
Moments of repose forever lost,
On we go for we must.
Of old bent trees we'he heard,
By the winter so many fall,
Oh and by summer newer leaves abound,
And so does our time call.
And yet in folly we wait,
For forgotten times to be remade,
The first steps are hard to take,
And thus a destiny we fake.

Three lines to heaven

This day I cross the rain washed bridge,
I feel not the stream that flows beneath.

This day I pass the burned brick house,
I feel not the fire that burns within.

This day I row with lost broken paddles,
I feel not the ripples in my dream.

Winter stays

Winter stays,
The change in winds long past,
Sunny days a way of the graves,
Long will these days last.

Thaw beckons,
But as oft as strangers knocked,
Few have mine threshold crossed,
Those they did stay,
In bowels of cold their names lie.
With dreams of spring , I sing;
Till that day my heart and I die.
Emotions do not a cold blade blunt,
A price in blood does this frost take,
All thats left is a name and a fake.
Bound by faith, maimed by love,
Veins in stone does the winter carve,
But in hopes of the thaw I starve.
Winter Stays.

I chose what I am to be.

This post is in continuation to Sunset at rum point
Change is strange phenomenon.The more you resist it,the harder it is to contain.

Today I am with the sands again,alone.I sit alone with the sun going down, wondering what the next day will bring. No I am not thinking of the sunsets.With the sunsets I sit alone.The fear of a thing lasts till chance brings it to your door. Today I am afraid of the sunrise. Another new day, another sunrise for a day I can forget.Another day that has no meaning, no colors , no fragrance , no beauty. Today I sit alone with the sunset. The winds bring me the familiar musty touch. But no hair blows unto my face.

I hold unto the sands , afraid to let go of each grain. Each grain that has the indelible touch. I miss the shallow impression on the sands where she stood. I miss looking at the sun, unafraid.

I look back and I laugh, a hollow mirthless one. I laugh at the sun. I laugh at my fears.What am I afraid of?Tomorrow will be another day to live .A day I may forget coming here .A day when I may not want to spend the rest of my sunsets with anyone. But something says the lesser I come here, the harder will the scents get. Harder it will be to defy the sun. The day I stop will be the day I stop to live. I will be among those that jog across the face of the ocean and stop not to challenge the setting sun.

But I am afraid. Afraid of facing the sun alone. I am afraid of the concept of the next day. This turn I am alone. And then I realize, I have no fear of losing it tomorrow.Yes, I will come. I will miss the smell of her around me. I will miss the way the winds scattered her sandy hair all over my face. I will miss the way the sun hid behind her beautiful face. But the sun will go down and will rise tomorrow. I will live. I will face the sun and though I stand alone I will.I will not be afraid.

This day is another day. Tomorrow will end some day. No, I live not to be with her. But every evening, when I come back, I will close my eyes. And I will laugh at the setting sun. Does it have a choice? It does not! But I have. I love her. She whose scent hangs thin. But I will close my eyes and mourn her.The morning may come after the night. But the moment I close my eyes I realize I still breathe. I still love. I still live.

I am what I am, because today; I chose what I am to be.

Sunset at rum point

You are sitting on the beach with that sun setting. You remember all the good songs being written about sunsets. Then you look at your side and there she is. Your heart skips a beat. And you realise this is where u want to be the rest of your life. In those wee hours, just before the sun tilts over, you imagine this is it. 

” This is the life I like and the girl I love. Why should I be somewhere else doing something else, dragging my life along doing something that I hate?"

What is so special about the sunset? Is it something to do with the person sitting with you? The silence seems so soothing. For once you want to sit and feel the sound of waves, hitting the sandy floor at your wet feet. The salty breeze that blows her hair, on to your face. The sand that has inexplicably clung to the most impossible parts of you. Her perfume that smells so close.  And the sun shines unto your eyes, for that last time. For once, you don’t mind looking at the sun. It is as an open challenge. 

“For once, I can challenge anyone to lessen that thump in my heart."

You love the company, the sun , the fragrance and the way waves crash in rhythm, with your heart. In silence lies such power. The exchange between silent hearts, which no sentient being hears. You wonder why you weren't there the last evening. You wonder why all the evenings. You wonder about the next evening. Instead of getting lost in the moment, you think about moments that you can’t be with her. 

The joy lessens and a mild throbbing pain sets in. In place of a thumping heart there grows a nagging fear of sitting apart. “Can’t we be together forever?” But you stay silent. You are afraid of asking, of tempting fate, of jinxing the setting sun. Afraid not of an impending doom or the apprehension of the wrong foot, but of something else. Something more subtle. Instead of being afraid of the mundane things, you are afraid of what comes next. 

Will the next sunset be as sylvan? Will the salty breeze still blow her hair unto your face? Would the twilight remain or will you, by the force of nature, be sitting alone on the beach. Brooding upon a sun that has already set on the western horizon (Which by the way you haven’t noticed right then.)?

And i still cannot say....For you will not answer. But should I ask...I do not know!