Friday, October 30, 2015

Untitled Poetry

It is a strange place we inhabit, my love.

Mystery and familiarity
drink from the same watering hole.

Fear and courage indomitable
seek the same shelter against the
quiet rains that sometimes make
waterfalls flow from the mountain peaks
of our eyes.

Trust and timidity, those two sisters,
sit under the same tree of my heart
which you made bloom by watering it with your smile.

Love, as tender as dewdrops on a blade of grass
and ache, as red as a fiery setting sun
both free eagles, fly together in the sky that is my heart.

And like a chained Prometheus, I watch as
these eagles come and devour me
completely, every day, day after day, only for me to
be reborn in the lifegiving fire of your embrace every night.

But am I truly chained? I disagree, for
in complete submission to your love,
I found my release. My chains broken
by the gentle caresses of your fingers.

And as I feel the glaciers in my heart
melt and flow through my eyes, my
ears are filled with the chirping
of birds. But when I look up,
it is you who is chirping. My violet.
The harbinger of my spring.

Monday, October 12, 2015

A response

I have seen Angkor, and its temples of old
I have seen the spires of Cologne's cathedral - a sight to behold.
I have seen the River Kwai, and the bridge on it too
But nothing, nothing ever comes close to you.

I have seen the Taj Mahal, its minarets piercing the sky
I have seen Nanda Devi, oh so majestic, oh so high
I have seen the Swiss Alps, with their snow-covered peaks
But what I remember most clearly is the curve of your cheeks.

I have seen Singapore, in all its glories
The mer-lion snarling; and Victorian British stories.
I have seen the tomb of Akbar the Great, the Wise.
But what I want to keep seeing forever is the spark in your eyes.

Words are not enough, I know, to describe your being
You are like the first bud of violet, that harbinger of spring
I may falter, and err - yes this is true.
But of one thing I'm certain - my heart belongs to you. 

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Appointment in Samarra

This is a tale whose origins are lost in the mists of time. You'll find it on the internet and in the preface of several books:

There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, Master, just now when I was in the marketplace I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me.  She looked at me and made a threatening gesture,  now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate.  I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me.  The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went.  Then the merchant went down to the marketplace and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, Why did you make a threating getsture to my servant when you saw him this morning?  That was not a threatening gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise.  I was astonished to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.