I haven’t met you
I haven’t seen you
But often I feel a home in you …
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Where the glacier meets the sky, the land ceases to be earthly, and the earth becomes one with the heavens; no sorrows live there anymore, and therefore joy is not necessary; beauty alone reigns there, beyond all demands”-
Halldór Laxness
A Postcard from Kashmir
I dreamt of walking
On mountains
And
I dreamt of meeting
You ….
Here I’m walking
On the lands of magical mountains …
High above the crowds and the clouds,
Under the ancient pine trees
I’m in its close embrace ..
Surrendering to the magnificence …
Believe, I could see nothing
In the thread of mist
Caressing the wind
Everywhere I see
You …
Only you …
Heart full of gratitude for this gift of being alive to see the magnificent heavenly beauty by The Divine.
Kashmir, Heaven on Earth
I was waiting
For you
And you didn’t show up
while my odes started to burn …
A heartache …
After a while,
There a humble person came along ..
Seemed so at the moment …
I asked him to take a picture of me and
There I sat at the corner of a bench
In the garden …
Took some time to
Get my mood toned
Up my unsettled face …
There the man waited patiently …
A gentleman ….
Once it’s all set yet unsteady
As I was,
I heard the man said, ‘Ready?’
Twinkled at him and said, ‘Yes’
Smiling …
With the chilly breeze that was
Passing through
I preferred my warm
Jacket kept aside
And my heavy heart smile
For the warmth I needed ….
A harmony ….
Later on I welcomed a friendly
Conversation with the stranger
He seemed to like all of it …
My chitter-chattering
And laughter flowed freely, naturally …
Then we started walking
In the garden, blooming all around
An attachment ….
The balance was the two umbrellas
For each of us,
His violet, mine yellow one
We were walking and talking
Keeping the in-between distance mindfully yet our heart-felt notions were quietly replaying …
The undefined mysteries of the world, meanwhile …
Letting love in our heart, unknowingly …
After a while, we faded into our different paths
Just two strangers with memories
A detachment ….
.
.
.
Tell me, what is that one odd yet beautiful encounter you experienced in your lifetime?
When we’re older,
let’s meet every Sunday at 4,
in that cute little cafe we love.
Let’s laugh at our foibles,
our mishaps and then,
release our mistakes to above.
We can share our new wrinkles,
each hair that’s turned grey,
and marvel at how we have grown.
We can both reminisce
on the lives that we’ve led,
and be grateful for each day we’ve known.
When we’re older,
let’s meet by the tree in the park,
the one where the blossom grows yearly,
we can share some nice food
and toast with a drink,
remembering those we loved dearly.
We will not give a thought
to the youth we have lost,
for we see so much worth in the change,
we won’t feel the rush of a fast-ticking clock,
for we know time is ours to arrange.
When we’re older,
let’s meet every Sunday at 4,
in that cute little cafe we love.
Let’s be wowed by how
we have weathered this life,
no regrets, we were just here to love.
When We’re Older
A Poem by Donna Ashworth
In the stillness of the lake
As I keep still,
I sense you
I sense a feeling of warmth
Flowing inside me …
I sense a reflection of you
Residing inside me …
So beautiful and mesmerising …
Then
I sense the strength to move along
In various ups and downs of life
With you and you only …
.
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.
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Midst the silence of the valley
As I walk through
I feel
My hurt inside is too loud …
Midst the silence of the valley
As I walk through
I feel
I’ll never ever forget you …
Midst the silence of the valley
As I walk through
I feel
I just don’t want to let you go
But inside I know I must …
.
.
.
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Soft yellow breeze …
Sweetness surrounds …
Such tenderness …
Yet a melancholy mood …
.
.
.
.
If you’re silent,
I know in silence you say more …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t want to know about you …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t feel what happens to you …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t remember you …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t care about you …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t miss you …
If I’m silent, then it’s not that
I don’t love you …
I miss you
I know you
I care for you
I remember you
I feel for you
I love you
Always …
If only you would realize some day, how much have you hurt me,
If only your heart ever, craves for me or my presence…
If only you feel that love again someday for me,
If only you are affected someday by my absence…
Only you can end all my suffering and this unbearable pain,
If only you would know what you could never procure…
If only you go through the memories of past once again,
Since the day you left my heart has bled, no one has its cure…
If only you would bring that love, those showers and that rain…
If only you would come back and see what damage you create,
I’ve been waiting for your return since forever more…
If only you would see the woman that you have made,
You said we cannot sail through, how were you so sure?
If only you can feel the old things that can never fade,
You may have moved on, but a piece of my heart is still with you…
I know how I’ve come so far alone; I know how I’m able to wade,
People say that I’m insane and you won’t ever come back again…
Maybe you would have never made your separate way,
Maybe you would have stayed with me and proved everyone wrong…
If only you would know the pain of dying every day,
If only you would feel the burden of smiling and being strong…
– Mehek Bassi, Chained: Can you escape fate?
Dear Art,
How are you?
I have something to tell you.
I have visited places to see you, feel you, articulate you in my own way. The more I see you, the more I fall in love with you. Some make it complicated and some make you so simple. You are instilled with so many stories of different people. And different people see you with their different perspectives, with their own stories. It fascinates me. It doesn’t matter to you if you are old or young. You know only to encompass yourself to infinity. You do not hide. You are open for all. Some feel you like home. Some treat you like strangers.
Dear Art,
You are not stranger to me. You are like home to me. I do not like to describe you much. You come to me as a beautiful surprise each day. You bring rainbow colours to explore my universe. I rest in you silently nurturing a world full of wonders. I feel pure.
Dear Art,
Do you know you make me shimmery, trembling, softly, from within?
Love,
Me
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Do you have any letter for art and me?
Roksana Tales 