SENSUOUS CHILDHOOD ... a live poem from past In a distant town since long lost Modest quarters abathe in winds hot Sun blazing, rooms shut dark On a mind wild, his afflamed heart Trapped, by his mother asleep, on straw mat
Restive, he fidgets, sun in his eyes Friends, games and all their tries Resonating, rushed by calling crows But her rule stern, her sharp blows Still ring, now her heavy grace An arm on him in semi - embrace Settled serene, dear, her kind face Yet ... in these confined hours Beseeching friendly greater powers He longs for the being at large Mirthful times, without the dark Among gods, trees, streets sparse. He rolls away from her, as naturally Breath bated, waiting, let out slowly Watching her body adjust, lazily Up, he tip toes very, very carefully Recloses the door, voiding the creak Feeling cool, out on the hot steps Jumping heart, muted happy scream Latches shut the weathered entry Merry, under the Flamboyant's blooming faith Its moving songs of joy, tingling mottled shade Gnarled roots bobbed up like ancient stays Red umbrella, welcome heart felt Between sun and earth, a fine mid - day. He stoops in wonder, at streets yet deserted Obliges readily the scorching windy wave Picks to peel off the unblossomed buds Locks the stamens at fierce wars of tug ' Where are they ?' The thought shoots Collecting pebbles, imagining feuds Squatting at last on the exposed roots ' Where are they ?' He dilates more Sketching lines in dust, criss - cross Bumps the ball up high to recover ' The game's sure on elsewhere !' One step, then two, winds howling blare Inner disquiet at silent houses in row ' Implore the parents, shall I ? But outgrows Bare feet on the grass, beside the road Decisively right into the fiery glow The molten tar sticks searing the sole Brisk, he strides on in predator's role Into a canter sudden, clear and cool Jingling anon, marbles pocketful The top unstrung, ecstasy on the run Ball swishing mid - air, baton swung Lo ! The kingdom's come The full view gladdens Grass fields, trees and shrubs Swaying palms, music pleasant Wide, fragrant, cool open spaces Littered drain at far end, falling to pieces Algae covered bricks, huge snakes aged. The little king is now freedom personified Delivered in time, constraints on self untied Plays by himself, somersaults under a tree Another his skills help, falls on bruised knee Calls and aims, takes a long jump Talks to self, ha - ha - ha, great times extend Till ... another arrives gleeful, unrestrained Echoing cheer, prattle, their wild dance Clasp warm, feeling close, singing laughters Render the heavens mild, alas, for not much after. The illumined momentum of the melee Reveal truths simple and unsurpassed Glowing undiminished to this day ... The mother essence, the Shangri - la ! ______________________________________________________ Comments from connoisseurs here are invited. They may also be posted on my blog at http://thepagansoul.blogspot.com/, where more is available. My prose blogs are published at http://vam-vamadevananda.blogspot.com/. The two blogs are now organised enough for you to visit, peruse and leave your comment. Thank you. On Feb 15, 3:53 am, Vamadevananda <[email protected]> wrote: > This is important to me, saying good bye to people who I was looking > for but who I did not know existed before I'd met them on this forum. > They'll remain with me, trans space and time and communication. > > It's been a pleasure, all the way, not only with those who I am > supposedly partial to but also with those who I am allegedly partial > against. Much like what I said to a friend this weekend, who seemed > astonished at the way I conducted him on the highway to Rohtak : I > may be perceived as being overcautious or a shade ambitious, even > rash ... but all that was happening was that I was being comfortable > with myself, being equally true to my weaknesses and my faults as to > my strengths and my forte. > > Yeah, the herbs ( what kind of a word is ' weeds,' in comparison, in > reference to the same thing ! ) and soma included ... I can choose to > be demolishingly competitive on the road, when I want to put someone > in his place, or disarmingly on a forum for the civilised if I am > seeking a friend. > > The truth is : I've just been a kid all the time because I have been > blissful and blessed all the time, below the adult or parent > projections I deliberately form to cover it up with, because I find > the others are not as blissful enough ! > > I have not made much headway with the social networking sites. But > Buzz seems easy. And I'll be taking on much of my posts here onto a > blog on Wordpress.com, hopefully linked to a page in a website I shall > commission shortly. > > I'll sneak in from time to time ... it's irresistible, you know ... > and it will never be that a personal mail shall remain without a > response. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups ""Minds Eye"" group. To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. To unsubscribe from this group, send email to [email protected]. For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/minds-eye?hl=en.
