Chasing Sunshine

When it was time
For her to deliver,
The fruit of her pain,
She wrapped around her,
The heavy cloak
Of unending shame,
And withdrew,
Before the break,
Of the bleak dawn,
To the hinterland.

Each step she took,
Farther away
From the spritely place,
Of her wonder years,
Drew her deeper,
Into the depths,
Of an engulfing darkness,
Where she lay down herself,
And gasped for breath,
As the harrowing pain,
Of the overpowering shame,
Held her in a tight embrace,
Refusing to let go.

In the throes
Of her agony,
She yearned,
To be delivered
Of her shame,
But it refused;
For it has a way,
Of breaking rules,
So it prolonged
Its gestation,
To resist manifestation,
And while it grew,
She had shrunken,
Until one day,
It drew her in,
And they became one
In essence,
And she finally had
Deliverance,
In turning to dust,
From whence,
She had come.

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Where once, you couldn’t run,
For the sake of it,
To get things done,
Or just for fun;
You went ahead,
And ran miles instead.

You ran as if,
Your life depended on it,
Never a moment
When you paused,
To look back;
Instead, you ran away,
And you ran into,
But run you did!

For in staying still,
You were headed downhill,
But in running,
You found purpose,
And you found you could,
Bring to a halt,
The inevitable fall.

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Maybe your life,
Is all about
Finding a place
Within you,
That is truly yours,
To hold on to.

A beautiful spot,
Perhaps at the core
Of your being,
An ethereal space,
Obscured by others
That surround it;
And yet, almost sacred,
In its essence.

It holds the key
To your being,
Although it stays
Firmly locked,
Until it’s unlocked,
After you’ve fulfilled
Your arduous quest
To discover it.

And in its discovery,
You’ve actually
Found yourself,
In all your glory –
Beneath the layers
Of ignominy,
That you’ve gathered
Over the years.

You’ve found this space,
Staring you in your face,
Saying,
“I’ve been here all along,
When you thought
You had no song
Left in your heart;
I was right here,
For I am yours,
Forever and ever.
Nobody can part us –
Not your biggest fears,
Not your unseen tears,
I’ve always been here,
For you to come back to,
Again and again,
In joy and in pain;
For I am you,
And we are perfect
For each other,
As imperfect as we are,
Me and you.”

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A simple life,
Is not the coveted prize
That most people desire.

We spend our lives
In the pursuit
Of fame, and grandeur;
Of opulence,
And an abundance
Of everything pleasant.

A taste of success,
Is often not enough,
To keep your heart full.

So you decide,
To spend the rest of your life,
In holding on,
To what you’ve attained.

And so, any hope,
Of a simple life,
Of watching the sun rise,
From your window,
Overlooking the meadow,
Beyond which the earth,
Stretches itself out –
Any hope of ever,
Being able to
Live a life as simple
As that,
You’ve tossed out,
From the window,
In your tiny flat
Perched so high above,
It is in the clouds almost;
In this throbbing city,
Where apparently,
People buy and sell
Myriad dreams,
None of which,
Accord simplicity.

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I grew up hearing,
And eventually believing,
That to be ignorant
Of things that are,
And that have been,
Is to be at peace.

And perhaps hence,
I shoved events
Less than pleasant,
Out of sight,
And out of my mind,
For the longest time,
Pretending, that all was fine.

Fine has a way
Of showing up,
Every single day,
In the laughter
All around you,
And the spring
In the steps,
That others are taking.

In looking around,
And seeing fine,
In all its shine,
I stopped to listen,
And I realized,
Not without a pang,
That my heart sang,
To a tune, so painfully sad;
Not quite the zing,
That I was hoping
It would be.

And so,
When fine
Had let me know,
That we weren’t together,
I went on a walk,
A rather long one –
Down a forest trail,
To witness the tale
Of restoration,
In nature’s bosom;
The tale of healing,
From wounds so deep,
As if they’d never been.

On my journey back,
I found I’d lost track,
Of everything that
Had sought to distance me,
From fine.

A walk in the greens,
Appears to be,
The perfect remedy,
To making friends
With being fine.

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The rock face
Looked intimidating,
A sheer drop,
With no ledges
To break a fall.
Those who approached,
Stood at a distance,
The ground between,
Almost as hallowed
As the monolith’s
Formidable countenance;
Both objects of worship
Through the ages,
The rock face,
And its surrounds,
Revered, and sacred
To meek human folk.

The tumultuous storm,
That strikes and pounds
Against the rock face,
Relentlessly,
Cares not for victory,
Nor defeat,
Nor indeed holy,
Or unholy.

The work of the storm
Through the ages,
Has carved for us,
A foot hold,
On the rock face –
Gone its place
Under the sun,
As a sacred one.

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The first humans
To inhabit this planet,
Weren’t separated
Into scores of nations.

They were just people,
One or two groups,
Or perhaps a few,
Living together,
Until there were many –
But there weren’t any
Big books of rules,
Certainly not back then,
In the very beginning.

What started off
In the beginning,
Perhaps as clans,
A bringing together
Of familial lines,
And similar minds,
With the passage of time,
Evolved into tribes;
And further on,
Kingdoms were born.

In the beginning,
There was just land,
And of course water,
Spanning this planet –
Where everyone
Lived together,
Until someone decided,
To create a divide,
To seal their name
On a parcel of land,
And protect it
As their own.

Battles were fought,
And wars waged,
To protect kingdoms;
Someone’s loss,
Was another’s gain,
Here, a kingdom lost,
There, a kingdom won.
Where nature hadn’t
Allowed for distinctions,
Humans birthed demarcations,
And a multitude of nations.

And so, what began,
As an act,
To form a pact,
To serve for unity
Against the wild,
Was morphed in time,
To break the very core,
That gave it form.

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There is a sense
Of betrayal,
An undercurrent
So strong, that it sends
Your little boat
In the opposite direction,
To where you
Were meant to go.

Yours was a path,
That had been set
In solid stone,
Even before
You were born,
A path so steadfast,
One you had no choice
But to stay on;
Until you realized
One day,
That you no longer
Wanted to play
By the rules
Of this unfair game;
You were promised,
A wealth of love
Sans conditions,
But you find yourself,
Utterly lost,
In a tangle –
A veritable maze,
Of prayers and chants,
Some answered,
Some not;
In short,
A game of chance,
Such as awaits,
Every player
That has entered
This arena
We call life,
Godly, or not.

And for all the trust
You did invest,
Out of the precious
Little you possessed,
You got a lifetime’s worth
Of bruises to nurse,
Scars to disguise,
And most of all
Unwelcome shame,
The ultimate nail
In the coffin
Of your betrayal.

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Friendship should
Have rules,
Or perhaps not;
It certainly appears
To be bound,
By unspoken tenets
That bind friends
To each other.
And every so often,
It so happens,
That a wide eyed,
Slightly bewildered child,
Is let out
Into this arena,
And that they’re quite
Unprepared,
To bond with,
A motely group
Of their peers.

They try their best,
Playing games,
Holding hands,
Being called names,
Fielding fistfuls of sand
Hurled at their face;
Standing alone,
With a stub of coupons,
On a carnival ground,
Not quite knowing
Which way to go,
Their heart goes cold,
And lonely, their soul,
Despite the warmth
And camaraderie,
On display all around.

They grow up,
Not knowing
What they lack,
If they knew,
They’d try every hack;
Perhaps it’s in not
Having the knack,
To let loose
Their body and mind,
And choose
Not the quiet,
But the wild.

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Joy and I,
Are like parallel lines;
We see each other
Across the chasm
Of this divide.

I dreamed of the time
When I’d make it mine,
As if it was
A trophy to be won,
Or something
To own.

But, with the passage
Of months and years,
I’ve come to know,
That joy is a keep sake,
And a safe place –
To catch a breath,
To break the flow
Of bitter tears;
A pursuit
That you choose,
To keep you sane.

And though it may
Forever be,
My parallel,
I ponder,
On the ways
To build a bridge,
To bring us together
Every now and then.

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