I met Monet
in his princely demeanor,
among the manicured lawn
and the secret garden
grows its verdant sprigs
and tresses, wild and free
in the prairie. Butterfly
flutters paint palette
hovering bloom
after bloom. Solitude
drips in cadmium and ochre sun
sitting prominently,
potted and composed,
regal and undisturbed.
A gentle touch of the brush
that peaceful gaze,
horizonless strokes,
a sweet landscape.
I walk dreamily
drank with loveliness,
the wavy enthusiasm
of the blue sea.
Such is the welcoming
spirit of the flags
sashayed in the wind,
gliding together
with solitary birds
taking flight. Still
above the silver lake,
mirrored pools
of mountains in reverie.
I see reflections
of wooden boats
bobbing in a dance
with quiet clouds
rippling soft creating
small shivers
in its feathery face.
I remember the way
he ushered me in
like an esteemed guest.
Taking my eyes to see
his picture books
of seeming easiness,
that immortal silence
showing how
to live as human,
not quite heavy
as his tormented soul.
Walking Along
Posted in Current Affairs, Literature, Memoirs, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Religion, Social Commentary, Society, Travel, tagged ahead, along, alongside, ants, appointment, back, behind, bob, brush, busy, catch, chase, collide, coming, crossing, crowd, cycle, destinations, directions, existence, familiar, fast, from, girl, guy, halt, heads, hurry, imaginary, just, left, legs, life, machine, make, man, memoir, milestones, mission, mobile, mom, mute, navigate, notice, One, ones, onward, other, past signals, pavement, pedestrian, peg-marked, people, phone, poem, poetry, precise, right, sea, second, shoulders, slow, social commentary, squeeze, steps, strangers, talk, time, to, tourist, train, turn, two, urgent, walk, walking, waste, way, while, without, witness, woman, working on April 15, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Here, walks people
wasting not a second
navigating urgent missions.
Without halt, in cycles
coming to and from,
fast and slow. We walk
alongside the bobbing sea
of heads and shoulders.
There goes a man
who is in a hurry
to catch his train.
While the woman
will just be in time
to make it with an appointment.
Some guy chases a girl.
And a working mom
squeezing in the crowd while
talking on her mobile phone.
Like them,
this pavement
lay a mute witness
to strangers who make their way
onward to destinations-
to directions
precisely peg-marked
as milestones to life.
Turning left and right,
brushing past signals
and pedestrian crossings
colliding like busy ants.
Our back’s two steps ahead
to the ones whom we have left
behind. Existing as familiar
tourist walking our two legs
in an imaginary life machine.
No one notices the other.
Read Full Post »