Enliven Poems | Examples

The child in man as grows

A child as grows enjoys rainbow of joys, 
Many a marvel in a wondrous world, 
Joys mingling with toys getting bouncy buoys,
A world of birds and butterflies unfurled. 
As comes his youth that changes only toys, 
Rewards of life so naïve staying no more-- 
Boys chasing girls, and girls giggly at boys, 
And soon mid-age knocks at a blissful door, 
Clay pots as if in kiln get to ripen, 
Realities reel out nigh hard and keen, 
The joys of old times no more enliven, 
Time knocks, nudges him to kneel, look within, 
    In hope he grows old, fulfilled life to find,
    But grows blasé, bliss of ere left way behind.  
___________________________
Sonnet | 08.09.2014 | life, reflection, childhood, youth, joys, old age
Note: As one grows old he tends to reflect on his past

The Athiest

How human
is human nature?

Alas, then, is nature
by default     also human?

Human not soulfully enliven?

Just deposed products
of the same, natural
mystery?

So, is Nature or Man
to blame? -- is it devil
or God

or simply
the pollinated seed
perpetually alive in every 
duplicating spontaneous 
naturally manipulated oblivious 
spiritually vacant pod?

Zen mode

we as bliss magnetism 
as directed by grace
enliven body nodes
in organic form

the ego aspect 
merges with spirit
enabling bilocation
of our consciousness 

both transcendent and immanent

Crayon Box Dreams

The fate of a crayon, it waxes and wanes,
From the engrossing grip of an artist's hand,
To a still life framed in a box of chains,
Where unmade strokes are jailed till scanned.

The sky was never cast so blue of hue.
The grass and trees so blushed with green.
The sun so brightly yellow and true.
Than when crayon pastels daubed the scene.

Each crayon remembers its last lip kiss,
Soft and compliant, in a sheath of dreams.
Kept concealed and wrapped up in bliss,
To enliven dull scenes with vivid schemes.

So unleash the dreams you've put away,
In a boxed-set of crayons for a rainy day.

Ashta-nayika -1, Virahotkanthita, Suffering separation

One among the eight heroine types keen (utkanthita) 
to end separation (viraha) from her beloved
____________________

My eyes long for one glimpse of thy visage
That eludes me like a mirage,
My arms ache imagining thy embrace
When will I see thou face to face?
All I desire, thy touch bereft for long,
O come, enliven the lonely notes of my song,
Come, let me remedy the cause
Of thy leaving me, what so hurting was, 
Let not go waste this sandal paste on my forehead,
Let not these fresh flowers fade,
Nor kohl in eyes with my tears spread,
This golden belt on waist,
These silver anklets, all my ornaments,
And womanhood of my garments,
Join me to plead: O let no more time waste.
____________________
Natya Shastra | 01.02.2025 |  
Note: This is first of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Virahotkanthita, suffering separation, is the first of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.

Thought of the day

if we were to mourn
death of souls who touched us
then would we not be grieving everyday
if all memories of our past lives becomes known
so then to which image should we now cling
when all beings shape shift their forms
both on earth and the multiverse 

waking up from sleep
dreams lived are shrugged off
yet within the lucid sequence enacted
we went through an entire gamut of emotions
as both dreamer as also the dreamed
so pausing time we enliven the now
radiating love and light of Self

On The Bus

We rode on bus with a crescent moon in the horizon.
We sat together in silence with feelings of love uprisen.
We travelled to a restaurant for our spirits to enliven.

Wingless flight

Meditative eyes
enliven heart’s sighs,
seeking to embrace,
outpourings of grace.

When heart lotus blooms,
rapture within zooms,
as we so become,
one with love’s bliss hum.

Before heaven’s gate,
what is our blink rate,
in the heart of God;
sight that leaves us awed?

Love and light fills form,
birthing a bliss storm,
within body urn,
where in joy we burn.

Having been, so known,
this sight to us shown
no wonder we hope
to again elope.

These words which we write,
of soul’s wingless flight,
is for each to claim,
in their life’s endgame.

Peace

I wonder how the latest  let say woods in this side of world  are  wishing to grow how 
    clattering all the ways somehow non chalant, somehow 
      withering flea and folly. 
   the problem is not even the furnance so to say 
     even though we will never waste much time let say 
   growing perishable tomatoes. 
   Of course farmers of tomatoes are necessary and 
    the other blossomings-
     the problem of tendency is the woods nowadays, behold 
   whatever windows and doors?. 
     Yes, don't tell me that some biscuits and other cookies 
   will help to enliven peaceful parties and programmes.

I Am A Mountain

I am a mountain, not high, not low 
To my shoulders, the sunshines glow 
To my streams, the waters flow
To nurse the creatures down below 

I am the measure of someone's fame 
At times, I put the fuels to flame 
Those who cherish a glorious name 
Dare to play in my own game 

To some dreamers, I'm next to heaven 
My forest glades are safe haven 
My green hue makes the odds even 
It makes the dying hearts enliven 

My green jungles are paradise 
To some hearts as cold as ice 
I mend the burdens of the eyes 
More, when the sun is on the rise

The Sick And The Physician

He was not hungry, but, he knew the hunger of each soul.
He knew, many were physically and mentally ill.
The liberation of each soul from their bonds was his goal.
In him, the poor and the downtrodden felt an unknown thrill.

Caste, colour, and creed differences couldn't touch his shadow.
The leaven of the Pharisees couldn't enliven him.
Dining with the socially rejected was not just a show.
He harmoniously relinked the earth's broken rhythm.

The lowly found in him father, mother, brother, and friend
At his touch, Levi felt his sins were being washed away.
The censures of the scribes, as sewage streams, had no end.
Could they, yet, keep him away from his compassionate way?

Those who could not cure diseases, kindled them for the poor.
It's in Jesus, for their illnesses, the poor found their cure.

Empathetic Healing Power

Written: April 06, 2024
             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Events emerge inside a cocoon of solitude,
A tale yet to be told, as calm prevails in mollitude.
A serene sanctuary amidst the course of time,
A mild melody of peace subtly whispers sublime. 

I connect with my innermost desire,
In search to connect and inspire. 
A longing deep within my soul, 
To stimulate and compel me whole.

With an artless palm, a gesture of care, 
A beating heart, ready to share. 
Attentive ear, eager to hear, 
Extending kindness is ever-near.

I feel the ache, a void so vast, 
Of emptiness, a pain that may last. 
Within my soul, in a hollow space, 
Where sorrow lingers, without a trace.

A haunting melody, an echo of loneliness,
Whispering gently, a melancholic caress. 
In the depths of solitude, its voice resounds,
A poignant reminder where silence abounds. 

A melodic tale of yearning and sweetness,
Weight-borne, heavy, and sharp neatness.
In the area of empathy, I offer my embrace,
I enliven my core with warmth and grace.

WHAT LOVE MEANS

Love is:
The hallowed window,
Through which our heart mirrors
The intrinsic value in our fellow human being

It is the manifestation of the portrait of our heart
And inclination for the perpetuity of mankind

It is the unspoken, discarnate, living treasure in mankind
The unquantifiable, unquenchable innate desire
To enliven humanity
It is the sacred mirror through which our heart 
Undervalues the impurity in our fellow human being

Love is:
The unshakable belief and undeniable fate,
That today's fortune,
Is the manifestation of tomorrow's desire for mankind.

The vaporised self

he who seeks is not
and yet he seeks touch tender
to enliven soul within


rest analysis 
dear heart and meld with the flow
becoming the flame itself

Thought of the day

shifting into an old age home ~
enliven there, the catacomb

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