My old soul is what I feature
Never asked a reason why
Never tried to doubt the nature
Only feel the urge to fly
I’m a metaphor you might
Recognize in times you follow
The trajectories of mind
In the dimness of tomorrow
When I’m tired of the flying
See me resting in the shade
Too much rest may equal dying
But I’m not at all afraid
I was born to find my light
Be it deep, or be it shallow
Flecks of sun, or moon at night
Lantern glimmer in the halo
I know that I must beware
Of the flame, but it’s a joke
I instinctively take care
From the turning into smoke
Only freedom is the cause
Of my little fragile life
Flying over, I take course
To whatever source of light..
When there is no day,
when there is no night...
there is war time...
darkness of life...!
Written: June 16, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope had gray hair and looked downcast,
Amid grieving and fears, hope is obscene.
At night, just a rocket and fanal were seen,
Life disappears into shrouds, leading to a blast.
Did the hurling and horrible air have a heart?
A single eye read the unformed wonder or boom.
He was the one who proved the current loom,
The quiddity draws the skies and earth apart.
Lord, my petition and argument are both fair,
What bears devils successful and me a failure?
Revolve their decay if the pair were my jailers,
Chervil-lined banks and curbs quiver with new air.
My sapient wairua creates an Elixir riddle ban,
Hoarding and ignoring nature led to a span.
In the midst of midnight croon
laden with stars, the sky bends
refracting light into a spectrum
of drifting colour mystique blithe.
Beauteous in a wilderness
amid the feeble dimness
of old mossy leafless boughs;
owls and other creatures rouse
into emptiness of the night.
They step out of the shadows
beneath the old resting maple,
flickering candlelight in hand,
and fall to their knees on soften
crackle of dry leaves; a trifle eerie.
A sudden gust of wind, a chill,
reap and thresh, a tortured flesh,
kneeling in credence with mournful din.
Penance will never end for sin
in the dark hour struggle and shame.
11/29/2019
Like a prune, it was
an old year, standing
before me. You start
counting the wrinkles.
In shift, you become
the problem, cannot read
the jigsaw. It had
uprooted the faith.
I was terribley upset, the
birds had not returned
to the lake this winter; what
do I do, I was talking to moon.
A new misty morning. I take a
small foot, set myself in the
god’s hour and start
planting the bulbs of tulips.
Satish Verma
A MIND CAN LINGER
ON ENDLESS THINGS
WHILE A CONSCIENCE
CAN CONCEIVE THE
IMPOSSIBLE
AS SOON AS THESE
TWO TRUSS –
YOUR HEART BECOMES
UNBALANCED
YOUR SOUL BECOMES
A DWELLER OF
VILE VIVIDNESS
YOUR EMOTIONS GET
FLUMMOXED BETWEEN
FANTASY AND REALITY
IT LEAVES YOUR BODY
IN DISQUIET
LEAVING IT TORPID
YOUR ACTIONS
GET REINED
BY VENGEANCE
YOUR VISION BLINDED
BY OBSCURITY
THE ONLY WAY
TO PROHIBIT THESE TWO
FROM COMBINDING
IS BY TRUSTING
IN THE ALPHA AND OMEGA,
LORD OF ALL LORDS AND
KING OF ALL KINGS….
JESUS CHRIST –
THE SAVIOR OF
MANKIND
Dimness
Draped in random spurts
Of light and radiance
While your face goes
In and out of my sight
And your words go
In and out of my heart
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