The wild roses grew,
all upon the wooden
garden fence, painted white.
Gentle autumn breezes blew
and stirred the
emerald-green leaves.
The melancholy fragrance
was spread in the air,
as I sat and watched
the red petals submit
to the deadly season.
So i sang them a lullaby,
to fall in a summer dream,
And peacefully wilt
with no sorrow,
with no tears...

Tug me into the ocean, deeper and darker, take me to heaven
I'm predictable, baby, and my poetry fits in the waves
but the ocean functions the same, cover me in your water
and turn me into the summer breeze I'm powerless, unseen
melt me like ice cream in a summer day, bring me to my knees to pray
dance me like a bonfire, wash the sand off my sweater or just
let me wear yours when this feeling needs rekindling

and suddenly all my favorite songs were about you
and suddenly all my favorite poems were about you
close your eyes to what you can't imagine, sixty seven
hours spent with you and I'm falling into you deeper than the sea
and hot like I'm dancing in your island flames
just to speed my heartbeat to match and catch yours

یقینوں کی سرحد، سوالوں سے آگے
گمانوں سے اوپر، خیالوں سے آگے
حقیقت کی پہچان باطن سے جاگے
دلیلوں سے بالا، حوالوں سے آگے
مری سوچ کی جس جگہ انتہا ہے
جلایت سماوی، تپش منتہیٰ ہے
ذرائع ، وسیلے، نشاں, استعارے
قدم دو قدم ساتھ چلتے سہارے
سبھی راستوں پر توکل زمینیں
سبھی گردشوں میں مقابل جبینیں
ہجومِ سلاسل میں قلبِ مجرد
جہاں نہ رسائی ہو ایسی وہ خلوت
وہاں کوئی نفسی، خودی، نہ انا ہے
مری سوچ کی جس جگہ انتہا ہے
وہاں پر خدا ہے، وہاں بھی خدا ہے

ع
۱۰۔۳۔۱۷

The dominion of faith is beyond the line of questions
Above the strata of  probabilities
Ahead of the limits of imaginations
Recognition of truth arises from within
Independent of reasoning and evidence
Unaffected by references and certifications.
Where is the boundary of my awareness?
Heavenly light, infinite candescence  
Resources, means, symbolisms, provenance
Temporary camaraderies and companionships...
On all paths, the ground is made of tawakul
In all circumvolutions, brows are directed centrally
In the swarm of connectivity, the core remains vacant
Where nothing can reach, such is the solitude there
Where there is no person, no self, no ego
Where there is the boundary of my awareness
There is God! There, too, is God.

A
10.3.17

.

    Memories
    are like
     footprints
        in the sand.

         They tell...
          In so many
          fragmented
          tales,
         where you
         came from.

        How far
       you've walked.
       How lightly
       you've trodden.
        And how hard
         you've dug
          your toes
            in deep.

             But...
             Unlike
              footprints,
            memories
           don't get
           washed away
            so easily
             by the tide.

.

.
She sits for most of the time,
in a metal chair with wheels.
Counting out the value of life
with an injury that never heals.

She waits for most of the time,
to confirm that she is really there.
But how many people notice her
sat down in her wheel-chair.

She's invisible for most of the time,
she is there but nobody spies.
So she spreads her tiny wings
and floats unnoticed to the skies.

She cried for most of the time,
always alone and lonely in a crowd.
Now flying free her spirit rises,
there's no discrimination in the clouds.


© Pagan Paul (25/12/16)