Echoes

I love poetry. The sheer possibility of depicting a moment or thought in a thousand different ways or to crystallize a portion of life in a cryptic form having a plethora of meanings and angles to it, is simply liberating, to say the least. Though I must say this inference comes from my own experience in writing, and so it is left to be known if readers echo this as well. Something even as simple as an idyllic cozy overcast morning inspires a deeper sense of introspection as in this poem:
On a day like this, when the shades turn mellow,
When sunny skies pave way to frosted serene gold,
Giving - to let go and just be,
Yet holding, still and safe as a bond.
Giving - that offer the best:
To shift gears, to break free,
To be inspired, from nature’s mirror,
Redesign, refocus, but best of all – giving me, me.

Isn’t this safety net what we all seek in life? Yet, we want to hold our own, in the environment we condition for ourselves, created subconsciously by our own choices again. And at the end of the day, what matters is the careful balance between self-realization and what we want to give to the world. For, only if the mind space is nurtured, can the latter be made possible….as tomorrow is another day :)

Long since I’ve been able to write. Sometimes I feel I should just take a break and see how it is to write all the time…what would I write about…it’s something that I look forward to doing all the time, yet have never really given a serious thought as a career…fraught with risks I guess, and also it is something which is bound to flower only when it receives undivided attention coupled with moments of inspiration. The former is possible at any point, but the latter is what is precious and key to quality writing, as I’ve been experiencing over a period of the last…16 years! Has it really been that long ? It all started when I came home with my very first poem written during English class in my fifth standard. It was a cute, rhyming, chirpy little poem about kites. Quite funny when I think about it now. ‘Up,up,up’, it went…’if you can’t fly a kite, don’t give up’…and it went on, like a little march, for I could not stop myself from rhyming all the sentences. :)
In any case, it’s that sense that pervades you when you know you have to write something that is from the heart, which can be termed my inspiration I guess. Similar are my experiences when I’ve written my last few poems…or even when I was having a regular journal back in school, or even much later. Now wait a minute, the journal was a more lazy kind of writing, I admit, to just let the thoughts flow, but taking care of a compulsive need to write, nevertheless. A sample of my 'not so lazy' writing:

Feelings lost forever
To the eternal chant of time.
That moment, that sweet hope
To bring forth, genuine being;
Left concealed amid relics of past,
Sad nature of that promising start.
Forgotten? Not to be,
For life has more to offer thee,
Enfolded into its curious ways,
Are hopes of brighter days.
Stay true; nurture thy light of faith,
Shore’s never afar to truth.