Line of inquiry
truth imbibed
awaits assimilation
we feel it in our bones
in time dissolved meditation
There's a sacred sanctuary in my soul,
a secluded realm only God can read.
I absorb light like the sun's rays of gold,
illuminating my heart when I've the need.
There dwells the truth to the depth of my core.
deeper than the marrow inside my bones.
A radiance impossible to ignore,
shining brightly when I pray in undertones.
Swiftly, it flows in me when I meditate,
focused on the reason to take my next breath.
My faith is refueled and I contemplate
the irrelevant dread of mortal death.
Embodied light does not dim in the dark.
It's spiritual strength cannot be disputed
God ignites in me the kindling of a spark,
so brilliant so as not to be refuted.
It can't be called inconsequential or trite.
Enlightenment is found, not with eyes alone
It radiates within us to zenith height
with the magnetic power of a loadstone.
Categories:
loadstone, light, uplifting,
Form: Rhyme
Autumn, a time for reflections on reflections,
and they are rife, linked to pearly grey sky,
lake, puddle, mud strewn path or no,
while each steep cliff face boldly juts,
sheer defiance without concession or a budge,
through jagged edge loadstone chipping,
as the chilling froth-tipped sea mounts its saline tumult, irrespective of an iron cast continuing rebuttal.
One can pass the baton to u turn so turbulent,
within our mental recess at end of summer phase.
September signpost deigns to whisper,
of a scenic telltale hint and tint,
this somber colour gloss an imposition on July,
sunburst relish, such a sullen flashback,
amid the garden suite indigo plot,
beyond a purposeful utopian expanse,
which every avid green-fingered artisan must doff,
their pale straw rimmed hat to,
that transit between seasons, annual curtain drop,
awash with predetermined wish fulfilment,
glow upon each glitter that sparks our child,
eternal down the ages,
somehow yet an underlying dread might spoil
or pamper,
in such icicle entanglement so wicked in its frozen mosaic,
chase indelible precursor now more than ever so inevitable.
Categories:
loadstone, art, beautiful, beauty, character,
Form: Free verse
What is She?
She is a thought.
an urge to go inside
where eyes go blind.
Where is She?
She is here, a loadstone
in the spinning wheels
of our maelstroms.
We carry Her,
as a hunger,
yet She nourishes
as lonely sorrows
famish away.
Why is She?
She is a dawn moon
for our dreaming.
A light
that will keep us guessing
why we are
until we find out
what we are not.
Categories:
loadstone, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Lambent
Lychee leaf lambent
lilac layered loadstone ledge
lachrymose lagoon
Maze
Milky moonlight maze
mystic marvel magnet moults
magic mother’s muse
Nomads
Nightingale nurtures
nonplussed nomads nestling near
nascent neon nooks
Let the Pens Flow - Alliteration Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Jenish Somadas
Date submitted - 26th July 2020
Alphabets in sequence - L,M,N
Categories:
loadstone, art, beautiful, birth, caregiving,
Form: Alliteration
I am rotting, rusting iron
And in my past is a glimmering loadstone.
I am at the mercy of physics.
Sucked backwards
I know the impact will kill me.
I struggle.
I drown in air.
The current churns;
my strokes are futile
and I can't remember how to swim.
Forgetting is foolish
But turning back is suicide.
Categories:
loadstone, depression,
Form: I do not know?