Sprouts of Creation: Mirror

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Mirror

I saw in the mirror

a disheveled human cast
barely recognizable

for it was clinging onto it's past

I humored myself
at what I appeared to be

there was a deep calm within my heart

even as I looked at the caricature
of reining calamity

but when deeper did I go

into my own cleaved shape

I saw lost amongst the light

my belonging to the darker shade

Yes! There was a streak
of burning of my grievous heart

My mind could deceive me

but the mirror played it's part

Why did you go?
Is this the reason for which you cleaved my life?
That oft in the anguish of my soul

Beautiful poems takes respite

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Agni-varsha

Agni-varsha; the rain of fire, one often forgets that fire purifies as it consumes, and the rain nourishes as it wets your body, your being; whilst ashes was the story of a consumption, Agni-varsha is the story of purification. It's the story a man and a woman who remained apart, who never came together because they were above separation, but they were still not apart; their souls were related, there was a strong connection; stronger than the mightiest steel, for it did not have a form, it wasn't made of matter, it was made of purity, of energy that governs this cosmos, of the energy of fire and that of the rains. Energy that links us all, the energy that nourishes our soul; only the intensity was other-worldly, only the power to conjoin cosmic in its origin.

Sprouts of creation is my obligation to fire. To its very nature to connect. For even if it apparently separates, it dissolves in itself the different forms to amalgamate, it helps fusion, it produces a new form, a stronger and a pure form, a form that is divine in its true sense.