Saturday, June 21, 2014

He and I

When he looks at the sky, he just looks at the sky.
When I look at the sky, sometimes I don't even notice it.

When he eats, he just eats.
When I eat, I read or hear news.

When he smiles, he just smiles.
When I smile, there is a reason.

When he looks at me, he just looks at me.
When I look at him, I profile him.

When he listens, he just listens.
When I listen, I prepare to reply.

His smile has a child like lightness.
My smile has a labourer's burden.

Even when he looks without, he comes from within.
Even when I look within, I am without.

When he doesn't speak, the whole of him is silent.
Even when I don't speak, I am not silent.

He lives without preferences and prejudices.
I'm neck deep in them.

He simply loves, trusts and lets go.
I fear, doubt and hold on.

He is rooted in spirit.
I am stuck in the mind.

He is enlightened.
I am an intellectual.

Tuesday, June 03, 2014

Monday, June 02, 2014

The Dance of Light

In the unknown distant future, 
when the lamps are burning low, 
a light will emerge from the dark
and draw us towards its glow. 

Such would be its purity 
and wondrous magnificence,
that just like moths of light 
we would choose obsolescence. 

We won't know its end,
nor would we see its origin; 
without a slightest care 
we would jump right in. 

We would joyously celebrate 
by unbridled singin' and dancin', 
when we realize that the light without 
is really a resplendent glow within.