Atop a Mountain

How have you been

Atop the Mountain,

Beating through winters

And through springs?

/

I have been well,

But you without me –

Without your heart,

Without a dream?…

/

I have been nothing,

You must know it:

A shadow of myself,

A ghost;

/

The pain that took your place
In my chest

Reminds me every day

That I’m no longer whole;

/

I’m sorry but

I couldn’t take you

To walk with me where I

Have had to walk;

/

You were too big,

Too wild, too dazzling,

To step down

To my present world;

/

I left you

On the highest summit,

In the place that’s your home

And my home,

/

And with an empty chest

Descended

To live a life

That’s not my own;

/

But I can’t bear it

Any longer;

Without a heart,

How can one be?

/

Won’t you return to me

And save me

From the smallness

Of my thoughts and feelings?

/

You know too well

I cannot help you:

You have to come for me

Yourself,

/

With your hands lift me,

Like a mountain,

Rip your chest open

And put me back there;

/

And if you fail,

You will forever

Wander about

The shadow world;

/

But should you make it,

You’ll again be

Somebody

Of a Heart deserving

The River of Time, Part III

IMG_0786
Pilgrims on the Ganges in Varanasi watching the evening prayer ceremony on Dev Diwali

I must have seen this river before,

Running its course since ages long gone;

Its banks, I sense, have many times watched

My different shapes and thoughts turn to naught;

/

How strange it is to stand on its banks

With a new face and memory lost,

Starting afresh while feeling as odd

As an old man in a little boy’s clothes;

/

I’m blessed to have such short memory:

To recall all would burden the mind

Too much for it to still soar when hope

Shines

Just out of reach, like the day’s first light!

/

Yet, if I see this river again,

I pray I may remember my selves –

All of them: men, and women, and ghosts,

So I could cease to hope, and instead, know

 

 

 

Find You

In the pause between regular breaths,

In the space between printed lines,

In the twilight of an everyday day,

On the border between black and white,

/

Is where you’ll find

Her

/

You can ask Her a million things,

But Her answer is always the same;

You can beg Her to fulfill your dreams

But next to Her they’ll seem void and pale;

/

You can plead that she show you the way,

Or that instead she let you roam free

But before you finish your prayer,

You’ll forget every word as you whisper Her name;

/

In the pause between ‘was’ and ‘will be’,

In the space between the Earth and the Sky,

In the twilight between Good and Bad

On the border between Them and I

/

Is where you’ll find

You

 

The Black Hole

I lost myself in your embrace

That with each passing day grows tighter;

My bones are breaking, my heart fails;

So close you hold me,

Your light burns like scorching heat;

It blinds me, and I see it as impenetrable darkness;

/

I am so tired of my fears,

I am exhausted by my weakness,

I hate it that I am so often sorry

And that I rarely know what I am seeing;

When you have crushed me into naught,

And thus accepted my surrender

/

The chaos that I am of thoughts of feelings

Will rest at last inside the deepest of black holes;

Then, only you and I will know

How in your arms I’d kicked, and begged and cursed

Mourning my self –

My only loss

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Fall is Here

The fall is here;

The wind has brought her

On his wings

Of golden leaves

/

And left her standing,

Cold and lonely,

At the door

Of summer;

/

The fall is here;

Her fingers out of clouds

Weave cobwebs

Of despair;

/

Was it by chance or not

That this unending year

Whom in her web she caught

Was me?

/

No, it was always

Meant to be

That a lonely fall

Would come for me,

/

Confused

Because my heart,

When it still beat,

Sounded and felt a little

/

Like her own when she

Stood, cold and lonely,

Knocking on the door

Of summer