tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62477332927316625972024-02-20T19:32:21.253-08:00Blue Shore Of SilenceNimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-35436872933963202162017-04-20T18:25:00.001-07:002017-04-20T18:31:57.978-07:00Wild Winds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I remember exactly the moment when my heart cracked open<br />
it was a beautiful rainy day on a lush grassy hillside in California<br />
I was walking into the kitchen and saw you through the window<br />
you were leaning against a post on the porch and watching the rain<br />
your hands tucked in your pockets, you were lost in a reverie.<br />
A solid, beautiful silhouette against the gentle gray sky<br />
I felt beams of radiant light emanating from my heart.<br />
<br />
It was a warm day amidst the delicate blues of the Caribbean<br />
I was falling .. falling into gentle waves from your strong arms<br />
looking up at your face, I experienced the deep beauty of love<br />
the entire universe condensed into that one ephemeral moment<br />
my heart shattered into an immense, infinite nothingness<br />
and in its place a delicate pink cherry blossom bloomed<br />
I left the confinement of the vast dark mystery for light.<br />
<br />
I have a sense that this is not the first time I found you<br />
we have played this game before. It was a different time.<br />
We were in the land of dusty mountains and pomegranates.<br />
Since then I spent many a lifetime silently loving you<br />
It is no surprise my heart knows you so intimately<br />
once again I offer you this fragile flower of imperfect beauty.<br />
My love, hold it gently; for this world runs on wild winds!</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-71100492112787773112017-01-05T16:58:00.001-08:002017-08-21T09:24:44.026-07:00Lately<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Was it ten minutes, two hours or a lifetime? How long has it been?<br />
Time has lost its meaning lately. A lack of sense or direction<br />
Minutes and hours languidly stretch and disappear into eons<br />
I plunge with them across the universe. My heart is a Dali clock.<br />
At the center of the galaxy, I witness the birth of a new star!<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">None of this seems to matter. I search for something else</span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Something mysterious. It is elemental. Perhaps primordial.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Or is it ephemeral or eternal? Again, adjectives with no meaning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been here before but can’t seem to remember much</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I seem to only remember a dichotomy that existed in time</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A time inhabited by you and the one without your radiant self</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Melancholy, my friend doesn’t come around too much anymore</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">even when blue gray clouds hover heavily over the horizon</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and incessant rain has a tight grip on everything around here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a time when rainbows burned into a purple haze</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">now they explode all over my body and transform into dreams</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Love, like beauty can be immensely vast, magical and powerful</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and in moments of extreme joy, it folds back into a white silence</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For there are no words that can express the purity of feeling</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I reach across the fabric for you and feel the hand on my breast</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You, me, this window, the trees and the city. Everything is a dream.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Boundaries melt in pure light and for a second I am that pure light!</span></div>
</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-4831880752701838712016-11-09T18:20:00.002-08:002016-11-09T18:20:57.647-08:00Kiss of Fire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
How long have I been waiting for you?<br />
Feels almost like a lifetime. Perhaps it was.<br />
So many moonlit nights and desperate dreams<br />
and all those intricate songs my heart made up!<br />
I have lost some of them many years ago.<br />
<br />
Life, the ever effervescent, loving mother<br />
she took me through desert winds, spring flowers<br />
and winter blues. Through it all, I always saw you.<br />
So much pain, so many scars and so much beauty<br />
but I am here now... in this moment, in your arms<br />
on a dimly lit staircase in San Francisco<br />
and the world is starting to make sense to me.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Two hearts entangled in a sensual dance<br />
to the beautiful rhythm of twinkling constellations.<br />
A fire burns brightly and radiates across the universe<br />
and I close my eyes and let myself fly far away.<br />
Because I know one thing. I shall always find you<br />
by the warm glow of your hot heart! </div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-85318815166134051952016-10-03T11:14:00.002-07:002016-10-03T17:06:47.331-07:00The One Who Is Chasing His Own Shadow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Be careful what you wish for, she said with a smile<br />
her eyes shone with delight, wisdom and love.<br />
I found her in the usual place; under the big oak tree<br />
overlooking the green valley, silently shimmering<br />
in the golden light breaking over the horizon.<br />
<br />
I have always chased shadows and she knew it<br />
and she even knew what I would say if she argued.<br />
Mystery and mystic have always ruled my kind<br />
and meaningful silences move my inner core.<br />
There is immense beauty, pleasure, pain and loss<br />
within these shadows and they know how to play<br />
the strings of a heart so fragile and vulnerable<br />
but a heart with scars is so much more beautiful<br />
and I want to die with a heart full of scars. </div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-34381037719394854912016-09-18T12:29:00.004-07:002016-09-20T07:47:59.695-07:00Mango Tree<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was midnight when he woke up from a dream.<br />
In the stillness of night he heard his own heart beat<br />
full of longing, pain and a desire he could not name.<br />
He sat up and gazed out of his bedroom window.<br />
The eaves of the house were dripping moonlight<br />
the world outside appeared in a delicate stupor<br />
and shadows floated gently in and out of his thoughts.<br />
<br />
There was a time when her laughter fluttered lightly<br />
and filled the house with delightful moonbeams<br />
that broke into pearls and they danced everywhere.<br />
Soft, cool slivery smoothness of her mouth..<br />
he loved her smile but quite never possessed it.<br />
Many things made her smile and he always stared<br />
at the way her lips curled into a beautiful moonflower.<br />
<br />
His right hand felt the emptiness close to his heart<br />
he picked up the conch shell on the night table<br />
and put it to his ear. The ocean spoke to him.<br />
He walked out into the garden and picked up a shovel<br />
and started digging a hole right outside his window.<br />
He was going to plant a mango tree in his yard<br />
beneath the shadows of the watchful volcano.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-21489909499482660672015-08-29T23:16:00.002-07:002016-09-13T04:23:44.423-07:00For Words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am mostly sad for the words<br />
not because they are unspoken<br />
but because they are; so freely<br />
uttered with beautiful abandon.<br />
<br />
Spoken from the realm of thought<br />
they morph into weightless forms.<br />
Vacuous, they float like feathers<br />
casting silvery, slippery shadows<br />
like ghosts in abandoned rooms.<br />
<br />
But unspoken words? They are different.<br />
They are made of earth and water<br />
you hear them only if you are careful<br />
like the faint chimes in a gentle wind.<br />
Spoken from the depths of the soul<br />
<div>
they are made of melancholic beauty</div>
<div>
you feel them only if you are poetic.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-63377207765701394182015-08-28T11:16:00.001-07:002015-08-28T21:18:00.089-07:00The Man Wearing A Red Shirt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I see him silhouetted against the cool gray dawn of the city<br />
on a street full of rich houses protected by huge iron gates<br />
forbidding and frightening; the wealth must feel alien to him.<br />
He is leaning against a tree with his shoulders drawn back<br />
his red cotton shirt has the texture like that of artificial flowers<br />
his eyes are distant and confused like he woke up in a dream.<br />
<br />
For a second, I imagine him in his homeland on a morning like this<br />
he is sitting outside, under the flowering almond tree in his courtyard<br />
his children are running around and one of them shrieks in delight<br />
while his wife is hunched over the wood stove and the dog by her side.<br />
The smoke obscures the scene for me, protecting their private moment.<br />
<br />
I feel my heart ache violently like I am experiencing a quake.<br />
Is this compassion? Empathy? I feel the beauty of my heart.<br />
I look at him and I decide to carry that face in my memory<br />
I pray for him and his unborn great grand children<br />
and I offer solemn, beautiful tears to mother earth.<br />
May he find peace, beauty and safety for him and his family!</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-64013668399368489312015-08-23T17:49:00.001-07:002016-09-12T17:51:47.551-07:00Selfish Lover<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
He slipped out of the room before dawn<br />
while I lay in bed lost in a beautiful fog<br />
clad in pure nakedness and vulnerability<br />
caressing seductive thoughts and verses<br />
and soft kisses linger in the gray shadows.<br />
<br />
I do not know when or why he arrives<br />
but his charm is irresistible; so are his stories.<br />
He does not ask permission but forces his way<br />
into the deepest crevices of the subconscious.<br />
There, he finds the subliminal and forbidden<br />
and then he invites me to dance with him.<br />
<br />
A slow, dangerous tryst at the edges of madness<br />
where a fierce desire conjures up words and metaphors.<br />
They arrive on winged white horses in chaotic order<br />
a blue fire ignites and burns. It burns long and slow.<br />
And then it happens. A streak of light flashes through<br />
and the words and songs fall in their rightful places.<br />
He leaves as quietly and forcefully as he arrives.<br />
I am left wanting more but the bliss of his love is brief<br />
I don't even know him but is there reason to know?<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-64146632083991265422015-06-27T23:49:00.001-07:002015-08-17T09:25:32.363-07:00On A Summer Night<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The jasmines look up at the sultry moon and smile<br />
their luscious scent wafts in on the silky breeze<br />
embracing me gently, kissing my bare shoulders<br />
and the world dances the sensual dance of desire<br />
in beautiful, graceful moves and delicate swirls<br />
dreaming of destruction and creation within it.<br />
<br />
The heavy moon hangs in the arms of a cloud<br />
the ocean shimmers in silent, silvery waves<br />
I light the lamps of clay with fragrant oil<br />
and hang them on grass blades along the banks<br />
I look for your footsteps on abandoned paths<br />
and scatter flowers, songs and dreams along them.<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-10148654432045918712015-01-02T11:03:00.000-08:002015-01-02T11:03:59.943-08:00Graves In Gray Mist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They were young when they have died<br />
their graves sit still on the grassy hill<br />
as birds glide silently on westerly winds<br />
on a gloomy day full of rain and chill.<br />
<br />
The trees, they are sad and full of fog<br />
they hide their faces in gray clouds<br />
late winter blooms on earth and sky<br />
but their tears dance on the grounds.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
They were young and they have died<br />
their deaths left to our interpretation.<br />
Is there ever a meaning to anything?<br />
Yet, we continue to spin and sing<br />
in the same old path carved into time<br />
and we go on living the lives of our forefathers.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-50287518287067709172014-12-06T21:56:00.002-08:002014-12-06T21:58:33.420-08:00The Mysterious Ways Of Heart<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I look at him as he smiles gently and warmly<br />
my heart warms and I have the urge to hold him<br />
between my hands to kiss him and possess him.<br />
<br />
The moon is a tricky gent. He plays the notes<br />
and cool droplets of desires and dreams shimmer<br />
on the waxy banana leaves. Oh, the scent of skin!<br />
<br />
The wanderer with a cool flame in his eyes<br />
and an uncertain smile on his hesitant lips.<br />
Where is his sensitive blue touch tonight?<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-1906450280445522572014-12-06T08:36:00.000-08:002016-09-15T19:04:09.827-07:00Yet Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Early this morning there was a purple dream<br />
the Sun in orange glow drifted over the ocean<br />
setting the wings of Willets on a golden fire.<br />
For a moment I saw Phoenixes everywhere<br />
I saw life, death and the eternal recurrence<br />
and I tried to will you into existence next to me.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Does each thought have a color?<br />
What is color anyway? A perception?<br />
For you it must be blue.<br />
For me, I don't think I actually know.<br />
Lately I have been shrouded in a gray fog<br />
and I need to clear my head and my heart.<br />
<br />
I think we each have a choice<br />
but there is a tender comfort in knowing<br />
that a beautiful death awaits everything.<br />
For we must eventually kill .. kill all things we love.<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-5402734571901552602014-12-06T08:16:00.003-08:002014-12-06T08:53:33.528-08:00The Night I Was Born<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There was a storm of historic proportions<br />
and my grandmother said to my mother<br />
"Watch out! This child here is trouble".<br />
I smiled in my sleep and swallowed<br />
the dark clouds and the terrible winds.<br />
<br />
I am made of fierce, fecund things<br />
a wild child with a storm for a soul<br />
with the deep blue ocean for a heart<br />
the dark sparkle of night for eyes<br />
and a passion for beauty and truth.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-25960863478097359972014-07-27T00:43:00.003-07:002014-12-05T14:02:33.878-08:00There Is This Thing <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is this .. thing within me<br />
made of purple smoke and umber skies<br />
it plays right beneath my eyelids.<br />
There are moments when it unravels<br />
but mostly it remains a mystery.<br />
I close my eyes tight and wanting<br />
this time I want to catch it by its wings<br />
I see green lanterns and a soft breeze<br />
and I see it.. the thing of sacred desire<br />
a dull ache permeates the world<br />
it is not a thing but a force<br />
that runs everything, including you and I.<br />
A will to power. A law manifesting truths.<br />
Yes, there are most certainly multiple truths.<br />
<br />
I wish I could share my dreams with you<br />
wish I could ride the starlit waves over to you<br />
but my song .. it is that of the ancients<br />
from a world that now forgot its language<br />
a language that belonged to gods and poets<br />
whose melodies made fire and water.<br />
I don't ever create. The words choose to arrive.<br />
So, you must wait. Stealthy and dwelling in shadows.<br />
Just the way I like you!</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-3010605296638864142014-07-13T11:05:00.001-07:002014-07-13T11:05:05.499-07:00Moonlit Rainbows<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The sound of a blues guitar played under the stars<br />
it is like the moan of a woman deeply in love<br />
as her lover touches her skin, gentle and light.<br />
It is the prayer offered to the gods of desire<br />
when language disappears into the night<br />
as dreams twirl and set the world on fire.<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-32802384215293049962014-07-08T16:12:00.002-07:002014-07-08T17:17:41.259-07:00The Man Who Is Working For His Death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
He said he was a descendant of the Babylonian Sufis<br />
supposedly they migrated from India thousands of years ago.<br />
He told me his story as we talked about Sufi poetry<br />
about the transience of life and the permanence of love<br />
the mystical connection between Sufism and music<br />
his degree in classical music from University of London<br />
the year at Juilliard's and switching to Jazz<br />
and the series of unwise choices he made in life<br />
although to him they did not feel like choices at the time<br />
it was like other paths were not illuminated for him.<br />
<br />
So how is it that you are doing this now?<br />
A year ago, I had a bad case of lymphoma.<br />
Wait, what? Yes, it is true!<br />
He said that in a perfectly detached tone<br />
as if he was talking about a bedbug infestation in his building<br />
He did not have insurance and he was bankrupt after the treatment<br />
Now he drives a car to make a living (I wonder what that means for him)<br />
and he tells me why he is saving some money.<br />
<br />
"They tell me this lymphoma will come back in four or five years<br />
and when it does, I don't want to undergo chemo nor do I want to be here<br />
I will buy a one way ticket to Nepal or Bhutan<br />
I will let this body die a peaceful death and I will find a new body.<br />
If I meet you in the next cycle, I will say Hello".<br />
<br />
I wish you nothing but a wonderful journey, my friend!<br />
I am thankful to have met you and to have known your soul<br />
I hope to meet you again and I hope I will recognize your kind smile.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-11179268169888286602014-04-28T19:16:00.002-07:002014-11-19T09:46:11.714-08:00The Game<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
An intoxicating smile lingers today in my head<br />
<div>
the delicate touch of a hand shimmers like a mirage<br />
<div>
and from a distance I sense a thin film of salty desire </div>
</div>
<div>
I thought we forgot this wonderful game of seeking</div>
<div>
O dear life, what fun you are! </div>
</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-65486155383582246372014-01-11T11:20:00.000-08:002014-11-19T09:41:49.681-08:00On Nights Like These<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I fly into the silver gray skies searching for you.<br />
Summoned by the dreams of nymphs and satyrs<br />
the moon shimmers and smiles in veiled silence.<br />
A blue bird on a distant shore sings of longing<br />
only fools know what it is like to truly desire.<br />
<br />
A long journey through the guarded dreams<br />
self-denial .. self-annihilation.. now truth dawns<br />
upon the heart with love and immense beauty<br />
and I find you nestled between the pages of every story<br />
smiling and patiently waiting for me to discover you.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-45561936082927869942013-12-29T17:20:00.000-08:002014-11-22T12:12:38.737-08:00Dimension of Truth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The woods, they sing a poem in a voice tinged with green<br />
a dark mauve and black envelop the trunks of the old trees<br />
what is the color of a dream again? Nothing but a melange.<br />
A timid blue breeze flows like the elegant silks of a queen<br />
an orgiastic symphony of gnarled branches and spiny leaves<br />
an owl stirs quietly in the thicket as he delivers the message.<br />
<br />
Deeper in the shadows, there is a cool silence waiting to burst<br />
into a dimension of truth that is not yet known to mankind<br />
the moon shines through the yellow weeping willow<br />
while the universe creates a subtle story of hunger and thirst<br />
a tale of dreams, desires and the wilderness within the mind<br />
and it may live for an eternity in a realm that is hidden below.</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-31221993116792471982013-12-26T14:59:00.000-08:002014-11-19T09:47:44.502-08:00Dark Blue Passion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
His eyes; they are the color of sapphire blue of the night sky<br />
a mysterious desire sets them ablaze with golden hues of amber<br />
his heart, his fierce heart of Quitratue spews red hot burning lava<br />
a deep dark passion flows in my fragile green veins once again<br />
and I dwell in desperate despair through the desolate wilderness.<br />
He is fire, he is thunder, he is truth eternal and he is my reflection<br />
in waters of a well so deep within the soul, light fails to fathom!<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-24606862311592424602013-12-19T23:04:00.000-08:002014-12-05T14:05:45.136-08:00Sometimes In Winter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I think of the warm yellow sand and green butterflies<br />
under our feet the river swirled and sang little songs<br />
in little emerald pools. Your eyes glimmered with desire.<br />
That afternoon I buried a part of me under the dunes.<br />
<br />
Then I saw you at the alpine lake one last time<br />
I remember the scent of lilacs and of your words<br />
under the starlit skies, the world fell utterly silent<br />
I have never been good with words anyway.<br />
<br />
There are scars of loss, pain and of memories<br />
but there are somethings that I would never lose<br />
your song still hangs in the moonlit shadows<br />
and sometimes in winter I fall asleep listening to it<br />
<br /></div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-69663241979915840932013-11-08T17:26:00.000-08:002013-11-08T19:07:23.354-08:00My Metaphorical Run<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
First it was the Peace pagoda, with its height and sharp angles<br />
Poor thing! it must have seen war and its many ugly stories<br />
so it must hold on to itself tightly against the autumn wind.<br />
Cherry trees eager to lose their leaves lightly sway in its shadow<br />
a breezy yellow against the crisp blue tones of November sky<br />
because their time of spelndor is not here yet, they must wait.<br />
The pagoda stands shrouded in metaphor.. is it a symbol of peace?<br />
In its silent indignation, it is perhaps a riddle for future generations?<br />
<br />
Then it was a beautiful old church with its wonderful architecture<br />
stained glass windows stream early evening light in golden hues<br />
there were hundreds of lit candles and someone playing the organ<br />
a jolt of memory; a burst of fragrance - of marigolds and incense<br />
it was a different time and a different place, yet the same reverie<br />
I appreciate the two people praying in shrines to their patron saints<br />
I hope with a deep conviction that their hearts and lives find peace<br />
this too was an imposing and magnificent metaphor.. but of what?<br />
<br />
<div>
Then it was at the lookout. The wind was blowing cold against the skin</div>
<div>
a sprawling city lay below; a metaphor for human achievement?</div>
<div>
a father walking his daughter home and he is skipping along with her!</div>
<div>
"Will you mourn me? Will you pray for me?" - Suddenly a tear appears</div>
<div>
in the shape of a glass sphere.. stays standstill in the vacuum shimmering.</div>
<div>
Look closely, you find the desire of the entire universe reflected in it</div>
<div>
with its vast emptiness longing to find something.. something palpable</div>
<div>
to feel alive, to know its own complicated self! Of course, a metaphor!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to keep running.. past those 6 miles, past the palpable desire, past eternity </div>
<div>
into the arms of nothingness and into pure bliss! Is it really a metaphor?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-78906921560269239722012-10-04T23:41:00.000-07:002012-10-05T08:54:13.909-07:00Fleeting Glimpses<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here comes the first autumnal chill of the year<br />
<div>
it brings beautiful little dreams from the future</div>
<div>
The yellow harvest moon smiles gentle and sweet</div>
<div>
he has a thousand different stories to tell tonight </div>
<div>
but the world doesn't want to pause and listen</div>
<div>
The wood nymphs slowly retreat into the shadows </div>
<div>
while the creator keeps pursuit of his elusive muse</div>
<div>
The lute player ceases the delightful summer song </div>
<div>
a somber tune is perhaps more appropriate for the season </div>
<div>
Golden brown wheat fileds shimmer and shiver slightly</div>
<div>
filling the air with a rich, sweet scent of the grains </div>
<div>
This is the season of wolves and tigers and it is mine</div>
<div>
the colors of my dreams bloom gloriously upon every tree</div>
<div>
and I catch fleeting glimpses of life; circles of light and darkness </div>
<div>
a melange of laments, longings and of moments trapped in time</div>
<div>
What a beautiful thing life truly is! </div>
</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-82671386028855904792012-08-17T18:46:00.005-07:002012-08-17T18:48:26.070-07:00Love Found Me Today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I do not know where it came from nor do I know why<br />
but a beautiful dream arrived in search of me<br />
It came flying on the wings of little blue birds<br />
as the wind sang outside my window in cool wisps<br />
I woke up and found nothing but a solitary silence<br />
the world greeted me wrapped in dimly lit fog<br />
and the deep black sky smiled through a starry veil<br />
<br />
Something.. someone.. somewhere sent me that dream<br />
or everything.. everyone from everywhere did<br />
I do not think I need to know but I have an idea<br />
I like to imagine him.. his smile and his dreamy eyes<br />
so intense that they tell tales from a past so deep<br />
a past we shared many lifetimes ago on another planet<br />
and we know and share a realm so intimately<br />
that we create and dictate each other's dreams!</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6247733292731662597.post-24333651488545983142012-05-20T18:51:00.001-07:002014-11-24T12:00:36.052-08:00The Scent Of A Citrus Blossom On A Warm Evenig<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A whiff of a familiar scent can transport you across the worlds,
across the time into a place so familiar, you can't even remember
if the place was within you or if it was where you hid those
precious, dazzling dreams your teenage self dreamed under
a huge dark night sky filled with millions of twinkling stars.
They seemed so close, they engulfed your tiny being and
you could hear them as they silently carved your destiny.
Soon, you left the red sandy plains, the twirling dirt devils, the murmurs of smoky huts with faint spicy smells
as the evening meals simmered and the children shrieked.
Wait, was that even this life time or was it another?
The moonlight lightly danced over misty mirages while
birds chirped happily in the thickets of the guava tree.
You went back to dig out the dreams. You see, you had to know!
Instead there they were, beautifully shaped gorgeous emeralds...
The red earth wept green tears for you for it missed you much
and the songs of crickets and the poems of twilight missed you too!</div>
Nimithahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783079975397106176noreply@blogger.com0