Whisper of hope

I heard faint whispers,

Whispers of hope, even in the dark,

But, accompanied by dim light of the stars.

Whispers of my unknown name,

Lingered in my ears,

Soothing and delicate,

Like I have known them for years.

Casting shapes in the clouds,

Only I can figure out from the ground.

This whisper of hope,

though faint and dim,

Glide flawless with the wind,

Collecting all my strengths

Beyond infinity.

This whisper of hope,

Digging dreams from my depth,

Taking them to my consciousness.

It let my calmness to grow,

Rhythm of my song to flow.

But I am the amplifier

Of this faint whisper,

Whisper of hope.

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Via daily prompt: faint

First and second degree of act..

First act,

Always intriguing and exciting,

With blurry days fleeting and rolling,

Of half memories with no faces.

But the second act,

that’s where the depth comes in.

The subtle yet profound

Meaning of everything.

Some associations of ordinary things,

With contentment in daily life.

Some amusement with trivial segments,

Shifting the mood from blue to pleasant.

The first act,

Being amateur and naive,

Goes on and on

without prior warning.

With no red lights to stop,

And no green to go.

Still, some get lucky,

While some get real bumpy.

But the second act,

If wired shrewdly,

Will become the cause of felicity.

The first act,

Though easiest to plot,

Is an ephemeral drill,

With lots of void to fill.

The second one,

Though hard to design,

Will tell you the right papers to sign.

So enjoy both the degree

Of first and second act of life,

With courage and dignity.

Learn from the intriguing first,

To make the second one best.

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Via daily prompt: degree

The cosmic stardust 🌟

Lost between some unknown stars,

And an eclipsed moon,not so far.

There I am, wondering to unravel,

Trying to apprehend,

The mystery of the unexplained,

The riddle of my strange presence.

Is that me, 

the unknown in the known galaxy,

Or a normal being of earth,

but in a foreign universe.

Where the air can talk,

Whisper with my songs,

But changes the chorus,

To suite their consonance.

The eclipsed moon,

And the cosmic stardust,

Hypnotize my wisdom, 

To make me their perpetual member.

With no sign of feelings,

Whether bitter or pleasure,

Angry or comfort,

This might be a world of neutral zone.

A sense of repose

Even in the turbulent air,

A touch of imperforate,

Even when no one is there. 

Existing moment of essence

Swirling voices,

Whispering, climbing helplessly

Onto never ending stairway of wisdom,

Yet fall off while intersecting

 with the looped gamut of emotions.

Oscillating within past and future,

What had happened,

And yet to happen.

But no traces of in between,

Where the thoughts are actually perceived,

The existing moment of essence,

What we call our today or present. 

Unexpected, but…

Unexpected, but true,

Getting old with a smell of new,

With every passing minutes and seconds,

Subtle, though the change for everything.

From a little rain,

To become a hurricane.

From the colossal woodland,

To become an arid land.

No connection,

When looked from a single point,

Just like an old and torn book,

With missing pages and unadorned look.

But lies a story in the hidden pieces

Of chain of events of subtle changes.

Unexpected, yet fair,

Unraveling the layers of truth,

One by one,

By gathering more guts.

Unexpected, but real,

Where dreams can give tears,

A dream that holds the heart,

Some with screams, some with laughs.

Unexpected, but unique and profound,

Thought process of every being found,

Inner sense of strength and power.

Vested in one and all.

##

Via daily prompt: static

Struggling in the dream

And again it happened,

The backwash of my uncooked rumination,

Become the cause of 

my half baked dream impression.

Neither be it utterly forgotten,

Nor completely remembered.

Blurred figure of my blue eyes,

Blinking with weight

Of death of the inner life.

Surrounded by some evil creatures,

With the sound of their evil snicker.

With no faces and no identity,

But filled with immoral laugh at my agony.

A part of lost yet familiar melody,

The rhythm of some lost harmony,

Trying to bud out,

But dies within their diabolic shout.

Who are these critters,

Why are their laugh so iniquitous?

Why my eyes are bereaved,

Why my reflection started to deceive?

Why can’t my dreams be stitched?

Why do they fall away like November leaves?

Why are they scattered so wide,

Where do their fragments hide?

My partly remembered and forgotten dreams,

Imprinted the sense of deep torment,

Though this is just an imaginary pain.

My conscious is still struggling,

Within my subconscious being.

My eyes are still seeking,

The piece of my forgotten dreams,

In the Echoes of empty circle

Embedded in my asleep being.

Virtue of love

Love outlives beyond the life,

Brings heavenly blaze of every kind.

Love is faithful and true,

Possessing the viridity of morning dew,

Vastness in eyes like an utter ocean blue.

It prevails above the materialistic life,

Igniting the spark of strength in soul and mind.

Doesn’t matters being one sided or both,

Love has its power to speak, without any word.

Love isn’t practical, it might be irrational,

But it’s a promise, a true souvenir.

It’s never forgotten, it’s never disappear,

With time, it builds its own composure.

Feeling of love,

Neither silent, nor so loud,

It’s a subtle game of lost and found.

Some find their world in love,

While some lost their existence for love.

Love isn’t something that fades away,

It shows its appearances in disparate ways,

Shocking, yet appealing,

With no idea of what’s next coming.

Love isn’t meant to be concealed,

It’s a remedy that everyone needs.

An example of perfect masterpiece,

Love is the medium of find the unseen link,

It’s the sustenance for every living being.

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Via Daily prompt: Viable

love-806375_640

 

 

A Missing understanding

Two mouths moving,

Yet saying nothing.

Two hands approaching,

Yet scared of touching.

Four eyes staring,

Holding the same canvas,

But depicting different etchings,

Giving rise to misguided feelings.

Whispers rise into gaping ears,

Echoes of inequitable and sense of withdrawal,

Full of ire leading to misjudgment,

Coercively proving each other wrong.

To feed their ego, to neglect their dispute,

They stop explaining and chose to be mute.

With conversations of half sentences,

They planted the seed of misunderstanding,

With the other half of their sentences,

Becoming the root of conflicts and antipathy.

Their chaotic silence of hatred,

Burgeoning the desperation

For distance and separation,

Based on the trivial assumptions.

But it is a simple complication,

Of their miscommunication.

Happy New year

Happy New year my fellow readers. 

May this 2018,

Brings you the eternal shine,

May this coming year,

Brings you closer to near and dears.

May this 2018,

Gives the urge to fulfill,

All your honest dreams till infinity.


PS: the image has been taken while lightning the sky lanterns at New year celebration in my institute, ALL INDIA INSTITUTE OF MEDICAL SCIENCES, NEW DELHI, INDIA.

Power of poetry

Poetry,

An art of writing, 

lucid and unique,

Some being expressive,

Some being undefined,

Based on the reader’s state of mind.

Beautiful verse,

With unadorned words,

Like a riddle,

Has different ways to interpret,

Where the words speak for themselves,

Where the words find their relations,

This is the unseen power of a poem.

It dig the meaning so deep,

Can calm down the savage beast.

It adds beauty without any makeup,

From the beginning till the end.

Filled with true emotions and thoughts,

With few words to construct,

Meant to touch  the reader’s heart.

In the sea of rhythm and imagination,

It can instill new set of perceptions.

In the strength of words so pure,

It can unchain the tamed soul.

The resonance of its rhythm,

Becomes the voice of the person,

Who is not allowed to be spoken.

The set of poetic words,

Creating an unknown whirlwind,

Where the time can stand still.

The virtue of poetry,

Is the channel of receptivity,

Is the healing avenue,

One must pass through.

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Via daily prompt: relate