Chasing Sunshine

I’m sat on a seat by the window,

In the very last carriage

Of a train,

That speeds through the rain;

My window pane,

Having become,

Blurry to the point

Of obscurity.

The once tiny streams

Of water droplets,

Have now transformed,

Into incessant sheets,

And I give up on trying,

To see anything

Through the translusence;

I choose to focus instead,

On the essence

Of what the rain means,

To the parched land,

That had become brittle

From the wealth of dryness,

Bestowed by the harshness

Of the brightest sunrays.

Until today,

Until now,

This watershed moment,

That has brought forth,

A veritable downpour –

And in its wake

Blessed relief.

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Seeking approval –

For as long as you go back,

In the time you’ve been around,

That you can remember –

This has been

First cab off the rank,

In all of life’s moments.

From when you were

A toddler barely off diapers,

Or still in them,

From seeking

In your carers’ eyes,

Joyous approval

For your baby steps,

Literal and metaphorical;

To the butterflies in your tummy,

As you waited for someone

To become your best buddy,

For the next several months

And every step of the way.

Every big moment everyday

Has been one of reckoning,

Sometimes with another,

Sometimes yourself;

That moment when you wondered,

If you were good

Enough;

If your actions and your words

Measured,

“Am I good?”

You learnt to ask,

Even before you knew

That was a thing.

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Like horses galloping
Into the distant wild,
The days rush by,
As though in a bid
To get to the finishing line.

And we cannot hold our horses,
For they have bolted,
The gate behind us
Firmly held shut
By a heavy lock.

So all we can do,
Is to hold on tight,
Almost for our dear lives
At times,
And squeeze our eyes shut
If we must,
To keep at bay
The storm of dust
On a dreary day,
And also the blur
Of the rushing years.

Our course steadfast,
Aided by our North Star,
And the few score,
Of prized memories
That we hold dear.

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On the night

That she lost her footing,

And slipped into the abyss,

Despite the darkness,

The utter dearth of light,

I saw her falling,

And I watched as if

It meant nothing;

Except,

It meant everything –

I did not intervene,

For I knew

The depths of her suffering;

The winds that blew

All around me,

Whispered the tale

Of the debilitating shame,

That had taken root

In her leaden belly.

So yes,

On that starless night,

When her guardian angel

Had taken flight

On the wings of escape,

And in doing so,

Sent her tumbling headlong,

Into the depths of oblivion –

I stood and watched,

Even as the tears

That seldom appear,

Rushed down my countenance.

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If you walked into the room

The first thing you’d notice

Would be the painting –

As captivating,

As it is intriguing;

Every brush stroke

Executed masterfully,

To capture the essence,

Of the artist’s romance

With nature’s abundance.

And yet,

There is a void,

That detracts from the whole –

A sign of rebellion,

A maze of abandon,

Where the brush strokes,

Seemingly lose

Their sense of purpose,

Creating an eyesore

Almost.

And so we find

This pretty picture,

That bears mute witness,

To the most agonising tale,

For such is fate

Sometimes.

And those are the dabs

Of sombre paint,

Thrown in with the sparkling bright,

Of green, gold, purple and pink,

And all else that evokes delight.

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I’m trapped,
And I want to break free
From this nascent cloud that I’m held in,
But it doesn’t let me be.

I’ve longed for a while,
To be liberated,
And fall,
Just fall freely –
Feel the wind
Push me gently,
As I descend;
Watch the world
Become increasingly larger,
Even as I transcend
To the acceptance,
That I’ll soon become
In essence, nothingness.

But in having been,
I’d have made
A tiny drop of difference,
On the dry land
That receives me.

And for this –
I want to break free.

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I

When you step out into the wild,

Take care to place your feet

Gently into the night,

For you know not what hides

Within its dark confines.

I know you,

You have a dream,

Or two,

And wonder sparkles

In your young eyes;

You cannot be held back,

At least, that’s what you think.

II

You race to the edge

And stand there,

With a wide grin

On your countenance,

The depths of the valley

Don’t scare you,

You are quite invincible;

Until they catch up,

And advance –

Bringing in their wake, menace;

And suddenly,

You are no longer smiling,

For there’s nowhere to go,

But into the throes

Of a vicious enemy,

Or the uninviting grandeur

Of the bottomless valley.

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I

I went through life,

Believing in

The innate goodness,

In every human being;

Possessing a heart

Beating behind one’s chest,

Renders one to find their best

To give to others,

Or so I thought;

And if not that,

At least a little part,

A shred even,

Of kindness

To a soul in distress,

Goes a long way.

II

But then one day,

As I walked on my way,

I chanced upon

Something quite the opposite,

Of this perfect world of my dreams;

And once within,

I found I couldn’t retreat.

The only way out,

Was through a dark valley

Of hatred, disgust and self doubt;

Nowhere to be seen,

For miles at a stretch,

Was any measure,

Of the decency,

One would profer

A fellow human.

III

So, now I live my life,

Wanting to, but not quite believing,

That there’s some good

In every human being;

For some folks

Are just too broken –

Some in giving,

And others in receiving.

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Memories

Are not what they claim to be,

Not always, at least.

When you look to yours

For comfort, and some relief,

Instead what you might receive,

Is a measure of veiled grief.

The sun shining brightly

To light up every dusty corner

Of your room,

Plays tricks with you,

Or perchance with your truant memory

Of a long ago afternoon,

And you come back feeling,

More than a smidge perturbed.

You begin to resent the sunrays,

Contrary to always,

When you’ve welcomed them;

For this time around,

They’ve brought about,

A revelation,

Or the beginning of one,

That you could’ve done without.

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You want to talk,

You really do;

You have a conversation with them

In your mind,

To get the hang of it,

But by the time

You feel confident,

They have gone

To catch their train.

All of them do just that –

They converse effortlessly,

And then leave;

While you find yourself

Tongue tied, yet again.

How do you explain,

Without sounding vain,

That you just cannot?

That you wonder,

If they will see

Right through you,

If they will smell the shame

Seeping through,

If they will sense,

That the quasi confidence,

Is a wall so broken,

That it might never have been;

But it did exist,

Before they tore it down,

And left you to drown,

Inch by inch,

In this quagmire.

And yet you never tire

(Or if you do

You haven’t shown)

Of showing up,

And trying to

Live this life,

That was forced on you.

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