Sometimes waiting in an airport has its uses....
Here are two poems I wrote whilst waiting for my wife Mangala as she was returning from Thailand where she was visiting with Sri Chinmoy and his students.
Photo: Ambarish Keenan
The fragrance of a flower
The fragrance of a flower.Ecstasy in flight,all senses flooding in pure joy.Waving and rolling in the meadow breezes,your beauty tranquilising all thoughts and beings.From one to the next, your purity carving open years of concrete decay.Peeling back and unfolding a canvass crying, perspiring and bleeding with delight.Planning for tomorrow, you seed the air for next time round more to be inspired.
Muses of a mind waiting
And why – if it can beMine to mine, mind goneHunger mother father goneCreased life – puzzles to unfoldRunway – to land or to take off?Heart – attack or grace?Havings – voids of silenced noiseRaindrops stopped in the air – join the dots and what do you see. Look in the mirror.Many lights, many shadows, your choice.Chutneys, pickles and wine – good food gone bad!Hyperbolic parabaloid – creativity gone mentalA stitch in time. Who’s time? Too late.Steam: life gone hot under pressure.Vision – perception articulatedFate – life ordained by faithFaith – life ordained by fateDoor opens – nobody there, that’s lifeDecoration – inspired concealment of failed detailPrecision – needed for watches, wanted by formulae and scripted for symphonies.Crystal – many reflections, your choice.