I am wandering, wondering How to balance life To surrender or strive To capture the moment Or let the memories fly by! In the space between thoughts Where I often feel lost I am seeking answers To saunter, gallop, or stop?
Sublime requests Of my creative mind Overturned by demands Of a cerebral strife. Shackled to cubicles, Paints and brushes Paper and ink Yarn and hooks Painfully exchanged For butter and bread. Amusing musings Garrulous silence Thoughts playing Hide and seek in My restive mind Wanting to break free Of the daily grind. Unfinished pages now Brittle and yellow Mocking blank canvas Waiting for a splatter Of pictures and words. My mind is where I left the crochet hook An unfinished work I can’t wait to unravel Start the lace afresh As new patterns emerge.
Time after time I return to the glade Of joyous thoughtscape Silver dandelion Golden sunrays Aroma of a picnic lunch Love notes in the basket In windswept letters On fragile paper Gossamer stories Of loving, leaving, longing Blowing in the breeze With yellow petals Wrinkled memories
Rescue me from The web of cerebration Crushing my innards Clutching my heart Maddening my soul With another bout Of stifling anxiety! Thoughts growing Like tendrils within me Squeezing, squishing Body, spirit, inside out Squirming in my brain Twisted imagination Triggering a volcano Of anguish fear, guilt The demons they win; Primeval joy, lost in the din!
Time for strawberry mojitos Mulberry plucked from trees Palash flowers and tomatoes Ablaze with red so deep Lavender teas, minty greens Brown delight of cold coffees Sweet fruits of labor, now Tangy orange preserves The sun seeping in nectar To return from slumber With full force of summer Until then let me swing In the silver hammock Wherever the wind sways An open book, still unread As sparrows make acquaintance Abuzz on the wings of a bee Sweet fragrance of jasmine Intoxicated with the power Of just being alive, blooming Until the breeze knocks it off From its cradle and it lies In the dust whispering goodbyes To the flurry seeds in the air From wildflowers in sidewalks Destined to carry fairytales From this corner to the next!
*Palash is a sacred tree in the South Asian subcontinent. It has bright red flowers in early spring and hardly any leaves