the moral landscape changes
with new blood surfacing
amplifying the flaws
inherent
in the collective psyche
my ingrained prejudices
bubble to the surface
harming
my interaction with my fellow man
disagreeing
with my elders
ancient scripts
based upon oral traditions
faithfully handed down
and embroidered upon
to suit the occasion
holding a mirror up to my heart
I had to distil my own truth
I refrained
from looking in the mirror
blaming
the cultural mores
for my current stance
turning a blind eye
to the injustices
and the crime
I must first practice to take the painful plank out of my own eye
before I could judge their truth
I failed to reason with my own
The devout words coming out of my mouth
distil the reverent echo of the sanctified soul.
My devoted plea opens portals of supreme spirit
where I discover the accepting arms of the Lord.
You kindle the consoling candle of salvation,
show me the nirvanic light in dark alley of strife,
give me the strength to boldly bear till the end
the pernicious pangs of the tormented life.
Oh, Lord, my humble words of deep dedication
flow from the pious core of my meditating heart.
I pray, hold me in benign arms of divine redemption
when the destined bell will toll for me to depart.
each moment that passes by, if we could replay ~
would we then distil thoughts and make love our mainstay
mindfully notice each creative urge ~
distil it before it begins to surge
The North wind blew, ominous, nights now longer,
testing resolve, deepening dread, the fear of
darkness stalking, time to distil impulses …
lighting lamp of love.
The East wind blew, promising warmth of sol’s touch,
proximity to the source enlivening
heart, thus bringing boons of grace, that gratitude …
lights the lamp of love.
The South wind blew, caused on soul choosing to shift,
resting thought forms, magnetism stirring within,
kundalini dissolving karma, that we …
light the lamp of love.
The West wind blew, last life breath, teleporting
presence from earth to heaven, making soul’s eye
synced with divine consciousness magically …
lighting lamp of love.
Is there anything you root for in our garden now?
Must I cultivate it to make it grow?
Can't seed so many plots, I know.
Is there anything you savour in our melting pot now?
Seasons changed, and our flavours compound,
True essence to distil.
Blinded by what familiarity steeps
You know our brew only too well, you see.
I taste bitterness, you drink me.
Remember,
The days when cultures were raw,
Just fresh and jubilantly spicy?
Where exactly did that zest go?
Preserved, yes.
Unspoiled, no!
Simmered away as steam from a kettle,
Aromas mingled over.
Vaporous, hardly distinguishable.
Whatever happened to our cultural bouquet?
Trying to bottle it is so hard.
Is there anything you relish in our feast now?
These days our palates just don't know.
We're still simmering.
Taste! Taste!
Hark! The clarion call of enlightenment rings,
As education's chrysalis unfurls its wings.
Long fettered-by archaic pedagogical chains,
We now shed the husk of antiquated refrains.
In crucibles of curiosity, minds ignite,
Forging knowledge that pierces the night.
We architect academies of boundless scope,
Where queries bloom and nurture hope.
Not mere facts, but wisdom's essence we distil,
Cultivating resilience for life's uphill.
For the erudite maverick with cerebral fire,
And mentors who dare to inspire higher.
Arise! Let transformation be our refrain,
As we reforge learning's domain.
Our voices, a symphony of choice and change,
Through adversity's gauntlet, we arrange.
In these halls of intellectual renaissance,
Every mind finds its resonance.
As vestiges of the old order fall,
We pen new axioms for one and all.
These bastions of thought, our legacy true,
Where futures are sculpted, both vibrant and new.
SIGIL
It makes no sense, nor ever will
I felt that misty morning chill
Tense, like the strings of a guitar
An experience, quite bizarre
A void that nobody could fill
Weary from slumber yet so still
As my thoughts I must now distil
Life is just etching on my soul
It makes no sense
Any scent of lilacs is nil
No inspiration for my quill
The hidden words I can’t cajole
I sigh at pointless rigmarole
Meaning now a mere codicil
It makes no sense
Your tepid favour not really warming to the thought.
There's no alchemy with which to distil a retort.
Comfort is a stretch, lack the agility to contort.
Best I seem to manage is a tireless distraught.
I'm lonely, saves me being an affliction.
My discomfort puts others in an awkward position.
How timely, seemed an effortless decision.
Left me having trouble remedying this condition.
This bitter flavour, sick having to savour such rancid after-taste.
Try to draw conclusions from the mess I have retraced.
Pointless seeking why it's this position I've been placed.
Now all I'll be to you a gap in memory, erased.
Though beyond today, I don’t know,
I'll still hope in this harmonious flow,
A place of pride you have in me,
I desire to go with you across the sea.
Celebrating our love gives me pleasure,
Many gone days I still treasure,
You bring me light,
This tunnels through my night.
Your smile goes with me when we’re apart,
Even until Twilight pulls its cart,
Cloak me with the fragrance of your love,
Distil my day with the sweetness of its clove.
My abode has been in the shadow,
And my path through shrivelled meadow,
You’re my miracle queen,
My land is becoming green.
March 8, 2024.
POETIC ESSENCE
a creative
impulse
on the spur
of the moment
in drops
of poetic essence
spontaneous
& prolific
from the workings
of the heart
to distil
into
another’s mind
A painting
with words
uttered
one by one
to another
an experience
of the wind &rain
of ordinary life
An
intimate invitation
to stroll within
& behind the veil,
’neath inspiration’s
triumphal arch
there
to share & participate
in the raw reality
of the creative
drive of another
A vision enhanced
by mutual
experience
of each
One thing
leads to another
translating
awareness of new
& deeper meaning
germinates
the empathy
orchestrates
the chords
as together
explore
the world
of the poetic
a creative impulse
on the spur
of the moment
with
spontaneous
drops
to
distil
as
a painting with words
an invitation
to stroll within
behind the veil
share &participate
with
another’s mind.
unable to rest thought
to transcend limitations of form
the pilgrim did the next best thing
he chose to distil each thought
in the cauldron of pure love
making them sublime
22-December-2022
The morning is fair and without compare;
desire to escape commotion in motion.
With apologies to Frost, but I’m lost
in sylvan idyll; my thoughts to distil.
I should have turned left or maybe the cleft
ignored as the bend designates the end.
Peering into the void I can’t avoid
the nagging feeling that the sheep bleating
as they’re trudging through the mud, chewing cuds
on the road most travelled and levelled,
would’ve been easier terrain – not bane
of thorns and thistles. As temper bristles,
thoughts turn mutinous. Incongruously
I’ll save either way for another day.
Poetic form: Lannet sonnet
poeticsonline.com/glossary/lannet/
Feeling by life prosecuted
'Cause our aura is polluted
Time's now we gently put on pause
Egoic thoughts to soul unsuited
Where we choose to dwell is life's cause
Love determines all divine laws
Reclaim now bliss that throbs within
Behold how touch of God's hand awes
Simple is the way to begin
Cave of heart's open, go therein
Let love distil every desire
Ignite innocence, exhume sin
Entwined with love, we never tire
Save God, there's nothing we aspire
Ceasing to resist, we're a mist
Vibrant, aglow, our soul's afire
17-October-2022
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