Will I, one day, with tentative hands, find the resolve To draw aside my heavy black drapes
And let the sunlight in again?
Will guilt molest my heart for the need or the deed?
For not retracting those hands that drew the drapes aside?
Seeing it as I might, after a month of Sundays,
Will I shield my eyes from it,
Or teach myself to behold it anew?
That sunlight, I wonder, if it will swallow up the darkness
Or merely disguise it in golden splendor?
There are places, strange places,
Where the sun forgets to shine every once in a while,
Where sunlight can’t hide every blotch of darkness.
Those places, those sunless rooms, exist inside me.
With coal dust in your myopic eyes
You see warped, distorted images
Like reflections in carnival mirrors,
The surface of disturbed water,
Or the cave of a polished spoon.
Seeing with a visual apparatus
Slick with a film of judgment
Perhaps renders your discolored,
Tinged view of my world and me
To yourself most sightly.
But, how long will you bear to see nightshade where there actually bloom roses?
Serpents where there actually stand people?
Relieve yourself of that judgmental culture, your cataract, your coal dust.
Do yourself a favor: wash your eyes and see,
Behold the beauty that is,
Rather than contriving an ugliness that never was.
The celestial salt cellar, overturned,
Sprinkled black velours with pinprick-sized crystals –
Pendants of an asymmetrical chandelier.
Stock-still silhouettes of wooden sentinels
Mantled head to foot in darkness
Decorate the horizon yonder.
Like suspended cherub feathers and condensed angel breath
Cloud banks swan across the star-dusted infinity –
Aimless vapor boats in an inverted sea.
Lent light is radiated on a reposing half-earth
By nighttime’s pearl held by invisible arms of ether
In the overhead blue-black tinted concave oyster.
To the unsleeping eye, wee hours are
Replete with awe that the day hides with light
As well as slumber hides in the achromatic dark.
The tears of the clouds- which are like the innumerable eyes of the blue skinned sky- descend like splinters that assault the earth’s soil. The breath of the wind has turned aromatic. Crescendo- the intensity of the falling tears is deepened as they glide across the veins of the uneven roads.
The gusts of cool air are sources of relief from the sweltering, merciless streaks of the sun that ray out around the fiery golden orb of the daytime sky.
As the torrential downpour ebbs away, the dainty shrubbery partners the invisible wind for a slow, rhythmic dance.
Now that the atmosphere is hushed, the nocturnal species chant their odes into the night.
When the tears of the clouds fall, people admire them and see beauty. When human tears fall, they go unnoticed. They might never be as loud as the spatter of the rain against the concrete, but the heart is smaller than the sky to hold so much inside of it.
“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.” — Virginia Woolf
Silence is punctuated by gentle atmospheric disturbance, so also, peace is mingled with friction to create a bittersweet concoction that we all drink from the cup of life at one point in our life or another.
On beholding a gentle stream, it can be noted that while there is an aura of serenity about the smoothness of the flow, draw your attention to the obstacles interspersed along the way. This is ample evidence that tranquility has to be tested in order for us to not wrongly deem it ubiquitous for us to bask in it and never get a taste of trials and travails.
Peace is frequently sought after and seldom found. It is searched for by eager hearts and minds who believe her to dwell in the solitude of caverns in the wilderness off the beaten track, or the ravines in the hub of exhaustive massifs.
But, even a phantasm of peace will not prevail if one’s own mind and heart are not ready to cultivate it. Peace has to bide within oneself, if one wishes to share it with another.
External forces will try to tear away the internal armor of peace from you; it might get tainted owing to transitory blows from the assailant which will testify to the strength of the bearer to hold his inner serenity.