Echoes of Golden Bloom


Trumpet trees yellow blooms
Driving miles away brooding glooms
Steady on curved branches night day
They hold sway

For years I loved the sight
Revelling in poetic flight
Alas if only this mass
Blessed in fragrance class
Crowning glory without fad
Will me mighty mad

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Unity in Diversity

Many questions, one answer Many words, one syllable Many invective, one blessing Many loathings, one love Many waves, one ocean Many rivulets, one mighty Ganga Many thunders, one shower Many mutinies, one palliative Many disasters, one order Four seasons, one reason Many chimes, one om
Read more

Resilience ....

Image
In my garden, I found several broken stone pieces scattered, each bearing its unique shape and form. Among these stones, one caught my attention. I had recently come across a quotation online that resonated deeply with me: "In the end, we all become stories." This thought lingered, compelling me to consider how each life, if understood and articulated well, could indeed be a compelling story. I often found that my shared experiences didn’t always elicit the response I hoped for, while gossip about me seemed far more intriguing. Inspired, I decided to transform the stone into a keepsake bearing the profound quote. After cleaning it meticulously, I used liquid paint to inscribe the words. My vision was to frame this stone in a unique yet economical way. Fortunately, I found a carpenter willing to take on this unusual task. I even bundled in a few other odd jobs for him. However, when the job was completed, my excitement turned to disappointment. While fixing the stone into the ...
Read more

Thursday thoughts

Image
I drift apart, I struggle to reclaim my wholeness. Am I one or many? The centrifugal forces of life seem to fragment me, threatening to shatter my essence into countless pieces. Yet, I yearn to integrate, to reunite with my true self. The pool of my soul is overflowing with tears, emotions, turmoil, and provocations, punctuated by moments of cessation and termination. To navigate this tumultuous landscape, I must summon immense strength and resilience. I must cultivate the discernment to distinguish essence from excess, allowing only the vital to remain. Amidst the tumult of diverse forces, I grapple with the paradox of rejecting impermanence while clinging to the transitory. My dessiderata, those deeply desired and cherished aspirations, are at war with the unwanted and the mundane, leading to a maze of miscalculations. Amorphous forms emerge, reflecting the turmoil within. Is this yearning or mere craving? I seek clarity in the midst of chaos. What do I truly need? Not fleeting comfo...
Read more