Chasing Sunshine

A little child who is sat

On the edge of a playmat

With his little peers,

Each engrossed in their own worlds

Which is sometimes contained in a dolls house,

And at others in dump trucks or a stuffed Mickey Mouse,

Is encouraged to share

And to care;

And though he may scream,

Or stomp his little feet

In utter outrage,

He is shamed

Into complying,

For his parents want him to fit in,

Otherwise, “what will others think?”

But when he is a little older,

Him and his little peers –

They are inducted

Into the fun world of games,

Each a miniscule slice

Of the cake

That is life,

With myriad rules

That aim to find

Who gets to claim

Sweet victory,

Or who gets to seek,

While others hide;

There is very little,

Of inclusive camaraderie,

Of being together,

And of celebrating,

The sheer joy

Of abundant existence

That can be had

In the company of friends.

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In daring to dream

There is a sense of thrill,

And a purpose to life,

For it no longer feels like a drill,

Or an unending string

Of monotonous routine;

Instead, there is an eagerness

In your every step,

And much looking forward to,

Beyond the clear blue

Of the pristine sky

That stretches its wings,

Coaxing your mind

To give up its fears,

And instead give in

To the urge

To let go,

And fly,

Into the land of limitlessness

And infinite possibilities.

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When you feel all alone

Every drop of joy

Sapped of your bones,

And the will to go on

Is missing, just gone –

When all you feel instead,

In the blood coursing through your veins

And your throbbing head,

Is a deep sense of shame,

What do you do?

You get up,

Get dressed,

And show up anyway;

For the game,

It must go on.

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She was the quintessential starry eyed kid

With a bag full of dreams,

Most of which

Were rather fancy,

Perchance wild,

But none meek, or mild.

Then, life began to unfold

The bag became harder to hold,

And her dreams harder still,

To keep within;

Somewhere along the way

She wasn’t sure when,

They started to fall

One by one;

The going became easier for her,

The bag was lighter

After all;

But gone also

Was the wonder

And the enthrall;

For she had crossed

An invisible threshold

She had passed on

From living

To merely existing.

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I am the pain in your belly

That keeps you awake,

I am the breath in your body

That is life’s to give, and take;

I am the soulful melody

Surging through your soul

Whether you listen to me

Or not;

I am everything

You choose to ignore,

No indeed, to repress,

While you exist, with regrets.

Now, if only

You would open your eyes,

You would see me,

And the infinite beauty

I add to your life;

Even though it might seem

In the darkest moments

Like I’m adding strife,

Pain, and an element

Of deep melancholy.

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When I was young,

I was firmly

Tethered to my parent tree,

And although the summer breeze

Tried to sweep me

Off my proverbial feet

Many a times,

I was having none of it –

Overhanging the merry brook

As it gurgled along,

Singing its eternal song,

Life was mine, and I was its;

Until the time

By when, I’d wilted so,

And was young no more –

So the connection,

It broke;

And I wafted gently

In the air, aided by the breeze,

As I fell slowly

Into the merry brook

Which carried me,

Through many a nook,

And twists umpteen.

And very slowly,

Albeit surely,

I grew to like

This crazy ride;

This not knowing

What the next turn will bring,

Maybe I’ll be held in embrace

By that rock face,

Maybe I’ll skip and hop

As the water does, o’er the rocks;

Who knows?

But this I know

For sure,

That there is fun,

In this endless travel under the sun.

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The little brown hare

Knew no care,

Living in a burrow

At the edge of a lush meadow,

Hopping along by the day

And resting in the shadow

Of the setting sun;

Until one day

When he almost became prey,

And although he escaped

But narrowly,

The little brown hare

Was never the same again;

For he started hiding in the shadows

Of the tall trees

Even as the sun shone,

And he kept aloof

From the other bunnies,

Spending his days alone;

The scar was invisible

Yet very real,

Just as the fear

That consumed him.

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Have you ever felt

So out of breath,

That even the deepest heave

Fails to bring relief ?

No facial orifice

Seems big enough

To let in,

That lifesaver –

A lungful of air.

Maybe it is

A season of grief,

Or several of anger,

That severes the conduit

Leaving you breathless;

And so you sigh

In desperation,

Long and deep,

Well into the darkness

Of the heartless night,

Longing for reprieve;

But, no matter how hard you try,

You find

That it is lacking,

Just as the tears

That never flow to wet your face,

So, finally you resign to fate,

And you let the ache

In your burdened chest

Settle in.

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The bag of jewels

Was full, at first;

Rubies, diamonds

Emeralds and pearls.

The little girl

Held it close to her chest,

She considered herself

Infinitely blessed.

Nobody knows

When the hole

Appeared

Or how,

But it must have,

For, one precious jewel

At a time,

Disappeared.

When they asked her,

The little girl had no answer;

“Maybe they were stolen”,

She said,

But that was just a figment

Of her head,

They said;

It had been hers

To keep safe

And she had failed,

And that was all that mattered.

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How nice it feels,

To have the breeze

Kiss your face,

When you cross

The finishing line,

And win the race;

The champagne,

Medal and accolades,

That come in succession,

Add to your jubiliation.

It is a moment in time

That will forever after,

Be etched on your mind,

That moment sweet,

When you tasted victory.

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