Quest for peace

The cheerful chirping of the gaily birds
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have long faded with the retreating rays
Of the impartial morning guide.

Even the seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for reason unknown

And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth
Are now still, perhaps in introspection
Of their seemingly trivial existence

The resonating chants from the holy mouths
Are now lost to the cleansing winds,

Even the faint rustle of the leaves of the proud trees
Has ceased, probably in submission
To the soothing calm of this unusual evening.

But even this pervading silence fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses

The unlikely espousal

It caught her whim to herd the lambs
To the graying pastures of the dusk.

Running behind them as fast as her legs
She drove them towards the lush green grasses,
To appease the hunger of their ever-empty bellies.

Or perhaps she drove them so she could be away,
At least for a few minutes from her seemingly cosy cave.

She could see them now, standing tall and firm
Beyond their dark disconcerting shadows,
The sculptors of the cave that was labeled her own.

They made the rains that filled the valleys
Tarry a minute so she could feel
The pristine droplets trickling down her skin.

It never caught her fancy though
Because she could only feel them stinging her deep.

But here in the open, away from the shadows,
The gushing waters of the chivalrous streams
Refused to wash her cracked feet,
For though by blood, she was of the mountains,
She was no more than a shepherding lass.

Then came the wind from a distant land
Blowing with force and bowing to none.

She ran up the hill forgetting her herd
And never did notice the sinking sun
She knew she could never withstand the force
Of the gale blowing up the innocent hillock.

No sooner did she reach the summit of the peak
Did the gale slow down to a soothing breeze
Probably to rustle her rustic hair or play with her seasoned skin.

She held his hands and walked down the slopes,
Into the woods and beyond the horizon.

Only the retreating sun and a bashful moon
Were witness when he carried her away,
Beyond the mountains, beyond her dreams,
Into lands unknown and yet undiscovered….

The Mirage

In the unforgiving seas of golden sand,
Bathed in the crippling heat of the ruthless sun,
He dragged his feet, straining and panting,
Pushing his eyes to search for a drop
Of the elixir that until now, he had indulged generously in.

Looking further, near the horizon,
He found his refuge in the hazy shadow
Of the beguiling borders of the elusive oasis.

It would quench his thirst and give him life,
Once more, the last one, the womb.

Gathering what was left of his wasted body,
He pulled on for yards, perhaps miles
Always to find his refuge just beyond his reach.
Never too close to wet his throat,
Never too far to murder his hope…

Heartlessly she lured him, to the voids of hell
And ignorant to this, he pulled on with hope,
Until the last of his breaths
Abandoned him….
She had claimed her first victim,
And there were many more to follow…
The innocent souls that went in search.,
Of faith, life and truth.

Masquerades

His lips utter the words of his long lost masters,
His mind though feeling the caressing arms of his alluring concubines

She fondles the hair of her lover, looking deeply into his eyes,
Seeing in his eyes the diamonds he had promised.

The healer holds the dying man’s arms
Uttering words of faith, giving him hope,
Knowing fully well that the cancer would devour him

He consoles the young widow with deceiving appeal,
The blood not even having dried from his murderous fingers.

The flatterers blow verses of praise into the ears of the vain man,
Who throws worthless gold for these empty words

Is there no one who seeks the truth?
However bitter, however sweet,
Isn’t it that which will satiate the hunger
Of the restless unappeased inner soul?