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Abitha Seshadri Poem
Who will unravel the tangled skein
These silken threads of thoughts?
Each strand possesses a special sheen
But is obscured by knots..
The day seems done before it starts
The night seems swathed in gloom..
For though facts fade, memories last
And clouds then hide the moon.
Who will unravel this tangled skein?
I turn to You dear God
A light to guide, a post to lean
You are the staff for all.
So hold my hands when they do flail
And steer my stumbling steps
And send the wind to swell my sails
And light when the Sun sets.
Steady these shaking fingers, numb
With cold; dispel the fears,
The loneliness when none will come
I know, to dry the tears.
When wanes the moon, recedes the tide
When ebbs the strength I've got
When all goes bleak, be by my side
Dear God, untie the knots.
Unravel then, this tangled skein
Untangle the threads of thoughts
When hopes are lost, teach me to dream
Bring to order the chaos.
When dark clouds hide the midday Sun
And the day in doubts' enmeshed
Rekindle snuffed aspirations
The morrow'll dawn afresh.
Suffuse me with strength so i can scale
The mounts that mark my way
So march on brave, not rant and rave
When it isn't 'my day'.
And tell me God, I needn't hide
For fear- You are with me
And won't forsake your errant child
Who now, ahead, can't see.
That you will show the correct way
Steer me clear of what is wrong
Teach me the words I ought to say
And sing with me my songs.
That you will bring the tunes i need
With music, words to sound
That you will be the flowing ink
when my pen cannot be found.
Copyright © Abitha Seshadri | Year Posted 2009
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Abitha Seshadri Poem
The glass that breaks, by none, my friend
Can ever be joined again
For, cracks remain, as scars persist
And these, no one can mend.
The waves that rise, cannot be tamed
By a child's desperate fist
Or the glare of a noonday sun
Be obscured by morning's mist.
The thunder peals cannot be quelled
At best, you shut your ears
The lightning flash still burns the tree
You see, though you don't hear.
On you walk, your cross seems hard
To bear, you fight your tears
You wear a mask, and smile to hide
From all, your hidden fears.
You call out loud " My God don't hide,
Or turn Your face away,
My prayers hear, some answers give,
My God, please light my way".
As a fly with broken wings
You thrash upon the ground;
Unsure of what you have to do
And lost- no helps' around.
When interminable the night does seem
And the day- eons away,
Blinded by time and unshed tears
Upon your feet you sway.
The fog envelopes you and now
Ahead you cannot see.
You know, a lot you have to do
'Yourself' you fail to be.
Off the sheer mountainface you fall
And yet, you dare to hope
You dare to mouth a prayer and look
Upward for a rope.
I ask You, God; do teach me this
How to smile and not to bend
Though all seems lost, just let me trust
That yes, this night shall end.
Copyright © Abitha Seshadri | Year Posted 2010
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Abitha Seshadri Poem
What to say, what to write, mere words have I
Amalgamations of some syllables, just sounds in ink
These alone my repertoire; how can I
Endeavour to spell the raging flames I think..?
Chaos, pandemonium, utter confusion reigns
In the mind, as on the battlefield
Thoughts hurtle through and can't be tamed
I want to fight myself and not to yield.
I want to stand my ground, to assert myself
Not bend like the grass with each slight touch of breeze
I want to be myself, not some mere toy
which time, at its own fancy, may choose to tease.
To stand the breath of fire and not to shirk
From stepping on with courage, where I must
To meet the world headlong, not let Time smirk
At my defeats; nor let cracks in my crust.
All this, and more I seek
All this of myself, I ask
When the going gets tough, I want
To hide behind no mask.
If raging storms threaten me today
Pay heed, I shall not fear
But, trusting God, shall march ahead
Radiating cheer!
Copyright © Abitha Seshadri | Year Posted 2010
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Abitha Seshadri Poem
Darkness drapes the sleeping earth with her blanket black
And awakens the little stars one by one
Then noble queen, the 'Night' glides slowly back
And silently blooms in beauty, matched by none.
She then lets loose her long, silvery flowing robes
And moonbeams slide down to paint the sleeping streams
To peep into and colour the sleeping hopes
And touch with a daub of russet, the sleeping dreams.
The earth lies asleep in a dream of her own
Lulled by lullabies of sweet rustling leaves
That nod their sleepy selves to the wind's soft tones
To the rhythm of the life-giving air earth breathes.
The now lifeless earth, thus tossed in silent, ceaseless minutes of the night,
Is redeemed by but the hoot of the owl framed in its solitary, unseen flight.
Copyright © Abitha Seshadri | Year Posted 2010
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Abitha Seshadri Poem
Why does the breeze stir up lifeless grains of sand
The sweltering heat infused into its breath...?
It rouses the sleeping souls of circumstances dead
And fans their burnt out ashes on a burning land.
Events repeat themselves though the wheel moves on
And time brings about its changes unchallenged
This river was once a rocky, dead, dry bed;
And this sandy stretch, a verdant lawn.
The brave warrior of yesterday is now gone
Into the shadows from where he views the fray
He may shut his eyes, in dreams relive his day
But the fact remains that this is another morn.
Why do the leaves rustle in the slightest breeze
Whispering unspoken words of yesterday...?
Making the pensive traveller pause upon his way
To question his aim in a fit of dubeity?
The clock ticks on, the sand grains don't stay their flow
Down the hourglass, and, with time, move, one must
Now leaping to the stars, now falling to the dust
Growing with each step and stepping on with growth.
A fistful of sand, its grains are scattered wide
Change is imminent, you learn from both droughts and floods
An arrow that could pierce, hurt and draw out blood
But yesterday, now merely grazes the scars.
Why does this breeze, this breeze of memories so stir you up?
What do these stinging sandgrains hurting your face say?
Don't the rustling leaves tell you that even today
There is a friend somewhere in this wild world...?
Copyright © Abitha Seshadri | Year Posted 2010
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