Twilight dances

Twilight dances

I dance at the precipice of reason ,
Twirl between shadows and light,
Ease into arms of the unexpected,
To revel in the balance between dualities,
Just a step away from the insanity
A glance , a turn from gloom
Just to spin out of comfort’s arms
To oblivion
A slip into the abyss of doom

And so we dance
In the twilight of half truths
We dance
In our ignorance
Waiting for the sun
To dawn , shine on us
The spotlight of truth

—shubha

Attention

Attention


Our worlds coalesce

From fog of the indistinct

To reveal , that which claims our attention


May our attention

Always be on that light

That illumines our intellect

And our world


That as we wander

Though our fogs of doubt

In our journeys

We always have that light

To reveal our worlds with clarity

Each step of the way




— shubha

Confetti

 In shimmer of laughter

Wrapped childhoods gain warmth, gilt

In the the glow of raindrops

New found romance, a new found us, meaning

In the cracking warmth of families

A settled base, finds us cocoons

In the glint of spectacles

Old age finds its’ sparkle

Our lives held together by shining memories

Gathered painstakingly

And just once I will throw up this glittering treasure

Walk though this golden rain of confetti

To disappear

Evanescent as them all

—shubha

Foreign tongue

 Foreign tongue

Poetry is a foreign tongue

Tracing indecipherable contours

On a page

Until it bypasses understanding

In words

To leave sketches in emotion

Until it bypasses your mind

To stir your heart

Then poetry sprouts

Among the words on a page

And in our experience

It is not to be understood , but felt

Known in the depths of feeling

Not the shreds of analysis

And we learn to feel, relate

To a foreign tongue

Until it turns familiar

Poetry is

when the other

becomes our own .

—shubha

Mirror mazes

Mirror mazes

Squeezed out emotions
Blot paper as words
Each a new squiggle
In this indecipherable map
Called life

And we twist into pretzels
Trying to understand
These markings
Of our own making
Assigning meaning
To hieroglyphics
Forgetting their origin

Turn away, inward
Away from the
Psychedelic colors
Projections of a mad mind

Turn inward to that source
That illumines the glass
Of this mind
Turning it into a mirror
And know peace

—shubha

What is , but love ?

What is , but love ?

What clothes us, but love?
What unspools into nakedness , but love ?
What builds us , but love ?
What crumbles our self made illusions , but love?
What gives us voice, but love ?
What makes us choose silence, but love ?
What was, but love ?
What will be, but love ?
What is , but love !
And we will be bubbles that rise, burst
In a cauldron of simmering love .


—shubha

Tapestry

Tapestry

I weave myself together
From glimmer caught in tiny hands ,
From warmth of winter sun in honeyed bands,
From the coolness of incessant waves on hot sands
From the fluttering of ribbons in the wind over many lands
From the movement of all creation , that creates, expands
From the stillness that sustains it all , as base stands
I weave myself together
To offer to You
As a tapestry of many bands
So I may subsume , understand
That is You who permeates every colorful strand.

—shubha