Paradoxity

When in utter darkness you can still see the light,
And when violence begets violence; we continue to fight.
Where the recluse is still, with the ability to explore,
When more becomes less, and less is more.
Where the stationary mind is yet set adrift,
And the altruistic soul can still attract rift.
Where dreams are real and reality is a dream,
And all is nothing and nothing what it seems.
When Nature nurtures, and plays the serial killer,
And the glass half empty appears to be fuller.
When one flirts with death and returns back to life,
And the war against terror perpetuates strife.
When one can find nothing in something,
Yet conjure something out of nothing.
Where meaning is lost and meaninglessness found,
And the sound of silence is still but a sound.
When you’re free to love and yet bound by love,
Receiving little refuge from the heavens above.
Where you can laugh so hard that you begin to cry,
And seek unattainable truths yet continue to try.
Where further from Nature, approaches the confined city,
Where there’s even a paradox within paradoxity.

Chasing the Sun

Where are the days spent chasing the sun?
Tantalising afternoons kissed by the twilight hour,
Hurried footsteps towards unreachable horizons.
Where impish shadows follow closely behind .
What were we searching for?
An ancient land cast amid day and night?
Some sacred wisdom held in a golden ray of light?
O guiding light, O unconquerable Sun.
We chase to witness your inevitable demise,
And in your last hour, shake hands with the Divine,
To experience the sky; a canvas strewn with colours.
We fail to catch, thus embrace your tender light,
But why forsake this evening and each night?
The hour has all but closed O Dying Star,
Enveloping us in darkness, yet we take comfort,
Smiling at the silvery stars, your distant cousins.

The Deep Within

As he explores the universe within,
An undulating ride beneath the skin.
Without a north, south, east or west,
To find some truth on an infinite quest.

An adventure replete with twists and turns,
The reasons for which cannot be discerned.
The closer he gets, the further he remains,
All while the riddle of life pertains.

To the heavens he looks for answers he seeks,
Devoid of which, his world would seem bleak.
But now navigating through an inner space,
The world no longer looks that of a forlorn place.

But still another path, and yet another turn,
A soul- fueled voyage which fiercely burns.
The passionate discoveries and all that it brings,
Such is the tale of the Deep Within.

Silence of Silence

Is not the sound of silence still a sound?
Where than can the silence of silence be found?
The endless thoughts of which are heard,
Where ceasing to think would seem absurd.
As the restless sleep in charcoaled dreams,
A silence so silent, you’ll hear its screams.
For quiet music that colours the tireless mind,
A stillness of sound that I cannot find.
So for now it’s the clamour and clatter of noise,
The chitter and chatter that makes me coy.
In complete stillness, still the body vibrates,
A silence so silent, it will not abate.
The silence of which is not found in rhymes,
The silence so silent it’s deafening at times.
If one can see through their ears,
And hear through their eyes like me,
The silence of silence remains a mystery.
Is not the sound of silence still a sound?
Where than can the silence of silence be found?

Planet of Emotion

Pride rests firmly on her shoulders,
With surprise floating about her seat.
A mountain of regret fills her bosom,
And happiness swims at her feet.

Love escapes her encased chest,
As sorrow trickles down her face,
Compassion flows like the tresses of her hair,
And embarrassment colours her fair cheeks.

Anger seeps through the pores of her skin,
With joy enveloping her lingering legs,
Fear climbs the nape of her neck,
With wonder clutching at her knees.

The Hourglass

Am I but a lonely grain of sand,
Amongst a throng of hopeful grain.
An eternal captive in a foreign land.
Where little hope remains.

Thus begins the inevitable fight,
For a seemingly equal space.
Toiling through, from morn' to night,
To win an unwinnable race.

Like a trains endless journey,
Travelling between two stops.
Creating delicate peaks and frail valleys,
With insurmountable tops.

With each passing second,
As time slips away.
It’s the call of freedom that beckons,
At every moments stay.

The wind has gone, yet do I long,
For where I ought to be.
Where time rests and in it's song,
Across the desert and by the sea.