Older and Dearer

There are none like you –
Maddeningly selfless and
Unconditionally supportive.
Everything that comes your way,
Good or bad, is somehow absorbed
By the magnanimity of your kind, kind soul.
Never asking for anything in return,
You’ve only learnt to give.
The glint in your eyes,
Had they not missed,
They wouldn’t dare awake
A sleeping goddess.
A mother is a nurturer,
A forgiver of uncounted errs.
I should know,
I’ve seen you brush aside
The most roiling of behaviors.
But she is also a warrior,
With strength, even the most trained
Ones can’t fathom.
Mother, you remind me what it is
To be persistent and genuine.
It is my turn to give.
So accept all my consideration and love,
Do all that your heart desires.
Live, like you would, a women
Carefree and young.
Even though you grow older,
You’ll continue to be
The most beautiful woman I know.

Happy Birthday, Omma.

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Islanded.

Waves upon waves.
Rays upon rays.
I lay there,
A secluded island.
Straining out of reach,
And then springing back.
Holding myself aloft,
And then being slack.
Thoughts gently lapping at me,
The shores crept inward.
Thoughts clouding over me,
My heart stirred.
Time blurred into one,
Lost, as I was.
In the distance, I saw them,
Speaking, approaching.
Holding maps
To my deepest whims.
Wielding the power
To turn me inside out.
Thousands have come
Before them and
Thousands shall come after.
For within myself, there exists
A labyrinthine haven.
I see them.
They do not see me.

The Universe of You

You were but a small boy,
Ready to be enveloped by the mighty
And the invigorating.
The Heavens convened,
Smiling down at you.
You, who glowed with wonder,
An impish smile lurking on your mien.
They imbued your life with
Experiences to last a lifetime,
Knowing full well, you’d thrive.
The stars aligned, preparing to
Release you to a world that
Could bloom with your thoughtfulness.
Flesh and blood came together,
In a hurry to carve you into all that you could be.
As you trek through the wilderness,
And dive into the ocean,
The Heavens congratulate themselves,
For a job well done.
They had hoped to see you living happily,
But you’ve left them astounded
By conquering every moment.
The Universe of You pulses with potential.
Do yourself proud.

– Meera

Telltale Reality

Walls groan and
Staircases sigh.
The ceiling rat-a-tats
With fictional marbles.
Doors whine,
Reminiscent of the old.
Curtains quarrel
So as to invite stories.
A dilapidated house.
It clings to its inhabitants.
It lives long after they are gone.
It sleeps blanketed by their memories.
And wakes again, ready for more.

 

– Meera

A Volatile World

Image courtesy – Google.

It’s a volatile world,
The very foundation sizzles.
Crackling like a witch’s brew,
Waiting to be stirred.
Rearing its bigoted head,
Surveying the great potential
For a divide & rule.
How easy it must seem,
To create a spark
And prod it so?
To lay waste, all differences?
It seethes and sputters
With a callousness so dire
That it reduces to dust
All else by a breath of fire.
It croons to sleep, a city
Of unsuspecting folks.
While the lava slithers down
And incinerates them all.
Many wars and many failures later,
What remains of this world?
Ignorance & arrogance to say the least.

– Meera