Adrift In The Maze

 Adrift In The Maze

My mind wanders through the winding ways

like a butterfly arrested in a maze.

A sweet captivity.

Here a flower offers a shape,

there a blend of turquoise blue and mauve.

A baby's face smiles hiding behind a bashful leaf.

The gorgeous pink turns sober and calm

in the tempered presence of the grey.

The sacred hearts of flowered dreams,

and the butterfly amazed, saunters, stumbles, falls,

and is raised aloft to dance

and fly adrift till the garden's end.

Adrift in the maze. Thanks Ratna for this thing of beauty.

Inspired by Ratna Srivastava's cute rangoli of flowers.

 Cool shadows, long shadows,

shadows beating retreat,

at high noon falling at people's feet,

shadows speak, shadows write the moods of the day,

and ask the wanderer to pause and read.

Sushama Karnik.

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 "There are people who cannot lie. Others lie with inspiration and conviction. Others don't know how, but they can't help lying. And they lie helplessly and hopelessly. "

Andrei Tarkovsky

The Images in a Mirror flickr.com Look at your face in the Mirror... ; Opens a new tab Photo by Nika Fadul on flickr ｜Poems to pondes

 IMAGES IN A MIRROR

When my candle burns to the end

I stand before the mirror

and wait for you

with another candle, brighter

because it shines in a mirror.

You come at my command

I lean towards you.

you towards me.

We challenge,

stare, neither in wonder, nor in surprise.

We test the tenacity, endurance,

a battle not for power.

We both know the futility of power.

what is it we want?

A war of attrition?

I am as much living in a mirror as you behind that glossy panel.

Why do we want to correct each other

when we are simultaneously right or wrong?

I cannot prise open the glass mirror

without breaking it into shards,

nor can you enter my world

without walking over the shards

We are both unreal, you to me and I to you

Images in a mirror.

Sushama Karnik

Apr 15, 2017

The poem is self-reflexive. It is addressed to me and me alone.

PINTEREST.COM   Saved to Poems To ponder

From Rebekah !5 Sep. 2023.

 

Versos de Luna

tnooeSrdps73pm1S1f2te0a5ca82795ih1,e h61crih2cgi u124e10b233  · 

Sigues aquí...

Siempre hay incrédulos que dudan que el amor sobreviva de lejos. Sin embargo tú me has demostrado que se han

equivocado.

Porque tú sigues aquí

acompañando mis silencios

habítando mi sonrisa, sigues aquí latiendo en mi pecho.

Aún te siento en el lado vacío de mi lecho, con ese abrazo cálido que me reconforta y quita los miedos, aún eres esa brújula

que me guía en el sendero

ese faro que es mi salvación en pleno mar abierto. Sigues aquí dejándome caricias en el viento, tomándome la mano cuando en el vacío yo me siento. Eres amor por siempre mi complemento, y tengo la certeza de que el mundo es redondo y a mi llegaras de nuevo. Mientras tanto yo te veo en el mar y el viento alborota mis cabellos.

Versos de Luna

13/09/21

México

Be right here...

There are always unbelievers who doubt that love survives from afar. Nevertheless you have shown me that they are

Wrong.

Because you are still here

Accompanying my silence

inhabiting my smile, you're still here beating in my chest.

I still sit on the empty side of my bed, with that warm embrace that comforts me and removes fears, you are still that compass

who leads me on the path

that lighthouse that is my salvation in the wide open sea. You're still here caressing me in the wind, holding my hand when in the void I sit. You are love forever my complement, and I am sure that the world is round and you will come to me again. Meanwhile I see you in the sea and the wind rushes my hair.

Verses from the Moon

13/09/21

Mexico

and the clouds still flirt with the night in the sky,

The purpleLost Treasures

Sep 10, 2015



The purple night lingers on the hills

and the clouds still flirt with the night in the sky

while the morning hurries to light up the frills
and lace the curtains as they eastward fly.
Rooftops slanting and the sunlight slides
to dive onto the street and paint it bright.
Shadows bristle, and behind them glides
the prancing, lilting spirit of light.
The day begins, initiates an ardour
for life with an urge to move and set aright
the errors and the wrongs of many a night
 and Godspeed, let the little boat leave the mooring

 and the harbour waiting for the light.
Goodbye little town of childhood delight

Originally shared by Tanya Dimitrova

one comment

1

11 plus ones

11

 Desire responding 

like a flower in osmosis

taking in slowly

the touch, the feverish grasp.

The absence. 

A traumatic loss

of the proximity. 

The flower

without age.

After a spell of withering

a tide of yearning

calls. 

A waste of beauty,

frightening.

The beauty without a mirror to know its magic

without the seeping rain absorbing sky,

and without the earth to take it in.

Years go by as the Desire renews the Body

feeling a shower of kisses 

falling on its soil

The typing of fingers 

stopping in wait,

for the emerging note

from the warm cavern .

A mermaid rises 

pressing her palms 

against the water ,

Desire rises.