Sacred Font (for mom)

Words elude as I try to pry them
Loose-from mind’s wall,  stream-
Lining them for a justifiable fit

Reverence mingles as tears well for a soul
That was so gentle and loving, a mighty
Heart that touched countless many

A mother of three yet unworldly, innocent
Gullible to a fault, often taken for a ride
By smooth talking strangers, friends

Nothing sullied her faith in human goodness
She believed in sharing whatever she had freely
With whosoever knocked on our door~ daily, nightly

Implicit faith made her tiny stature seem tall, she only
Wore immaculate starched white saris and unabashedly
Sang in gatherings-rather out of tune, her voice quivering

Folks smiled and let her be without saying a word
Making us feel as if she was their beloved child and
Not their friend or neighbor~ such was her sacred aura

Our rebellious ways she controlled with welling
Eyes making us feel like heels and quickly we caved
Behaving just as she expected without letting her down

Afflicted early in life, she managed herself with dignity
Never weeping or giving in, always carrying herself
With infinite grace and courage living life on own terms

Once due to cancelled trains I was helplessly caught in a human
Stampede, her non-stop prayers brought me home unharmed with not
A single hair out of place, nor any body part broken, miraculously

One day she decided to call it quits and gave up on life
The malady she had beaten returned after a score of years
Not prepared to suffer once again, she chose to live no more

Willing herself to die- she let go of her life surrounded by
All her friends, distant and close kin –after seeking forgiveness
From each and everyone thus reconciling her ledger of life

The night vigil is one I will remember to my dying day, as we bid
Godspeed to her departing soul –the image of her deity became her face
As wonderstruck we beheld this sight, happy she was finally home

You Linger

You had crossed
Over and we had
Dutifully given
A grand sendoff
Amidst flowers
Mantra chants
Fragrant pyre
Of sandalwood
Bier of your favorite
Flowers and things

Ashes and bones
Fire purified, lovingly
Immersed in holy Ganges
Shradh* ceremony
To appease preceded
Performed to ease
Your onward journey
So~Why~Did~You
Return?

Linger ~thus~ Scaring children
Grandchildren ~ who loved you so
When you wore a human form
Of flesh and bone?

You linger bodiless
Transparent ~ethereal
flowing filling spaces
Like air jet stream disturbing
Aura, dust and light motes
Turning darkness~ dank musky

What is remiss
do you miss us
or have we missed
something? Do indicate
So we can make amends
And Bid you a final adieu

You linger
but since
I love you
So- do go
Gently into
Night in peace
And harmony

~

*Sanskrit ?r?ddha, also spelled Shraddha, in Hinduism, is a ceremony performed in honor of a dead ancestor.  The rite is both a social and a religious responsibility enjoined on all male Hindus. The importance given in India to the birth of sons is to ensure that there will be a male descendant to perform the sraddha ceremony after one’s death.  The rite is performed for deceased father, grandfather, and great-grandfather and also for mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. It is intended to nourish, protect, and support their spirits.

*picture courtesy Sook Hottle

Ancient maps/flags

Swatches, patches
Strains, refrains
Snatches, peals

Shreds, pieces
Ancient maps
Soul compasses

ocean’s murmur
Nature’s twitter
Surfacing old ken

Elusive, unpinned
Tantalizing discomfort
Knowledge within reach

No time for frustration
Beckoning pathways
two pronged veins arteries

déjà vu relics
impinge, tingle
dreams real surreal

realization’s dawn
omnipresence eternal
timeless, infinite

thresholds, windowsills
glass doors, panes, ever
revolving, escalating, lowering

light puddles, tarot plucked
tea leaves in dregs
beg to be read

(*ken: knowledge

often wonder- have 100s of (e)friends, yet only a handful connect deeply-
 the whys and wherefores of it- I question myself all the time- is it a past connection?
 Déjà vu kind?)
**pic from internet

.

Connections/Linkages

Physical bodies matter little

Get backward linked forward

we still bring the bodies home

astral, emotionally bound

even as we go through life

going through the motions,

we stay thus connected

keeping them prisoners

mutual histories bind the clay

forming bodies, in mind at play

** The astral body is a subtle body posited

by many religious philosophers, intermediate

between the intelligent soul and the physical

body, composed of a subtle material.

Life Chakra

Self controlled, swallow back
of grief laced spilling waters
swelling throngs paid homage

paper shell lay on icy ledge
a ripe melon severed from vine
another thistle in blowing wind

real half climbing to journey on
entering mystic sienna cave portal
ready to don another  abstract form

opening eyes in a new city, life,
another crisp layered ad- mixture
self chosen by past karmic choices

(pic from internet only)

Cisterns of conscious streams flow in channels of mind
Few easily plumbed, rest will reveal depth in due time
unfurling petals of heart to soak in healing dawn light
that floods innards devouring darkness skulking inside

fettered soul flutters feebly chomping to fly free
tethered to a non robust shapeless decaying body
florescent veins of knowledge sluggishly course as
chi tries valiantly to clear inner  pathways perforce

karmic chakra will play itself out one day
this house of cards will finally fall, call it a day
unfettered I will wait curbside for the chariot
Failing which, I will self propel, taking instant flight

Ashes to ashes dust to dust panchbhootam will fall
Sky, air, water, earth fire will claim their atoms, all
The shimmering within will fly to fresh pastures until
Complete self purification allows entry into own abode
*panchbhootam: sky, air, water, earth, fire

**chakra~cycle of life

Not Departed

Not departed

she

  lingers

   an

       aftermath

 of perfume

   floating

 in air

 connecting

      particles

 particular         to

       particular

 particles

Tickling

     memories’

        nostrils

   fiber

   to love

     fiber

 timeless

   hovering

      seeping

 into  sleeping

     beloved’s

        dreams

  waiting

    biding

      time

Our duel of wits had lasted a long time
Until they accepted defeat giving me respite
No longer wary, I breathed happily, to enjoy
Free run of kitchen, bite here there to annoy

Hating my guts, a professional they’d employed
To capture me, heal their bleeding hemorrhoids
But I come from a stock both spunky and wily, in me
Catcher met his match, unusual protagonist, slippery

Grandma said at time of my birth stars had conspired
Hence I was always in trouble, all reform plans misfired
The professional set many a mousetrap for my capture
My uncanny skill kept me one jump ahead in utter rapture

Our cat and mouse play went on for many months
Until, end of his tether Professional gave up on seventh
To celebrate victory we had a gala party on the eighth
Ceasefire gave us all time to catch our breaths

Then alas, one day the building next door collapsed
Taking down a wall of our mansion that was attached
Life ebbed out of all of us as we scurried here and there
Disgusted, our master sold house dirt cheap in despair  
 
~~
I should be the last person to say anything against temptation,
 naturally, but we have a proverb down here ‘in baiting a
 mouse-trap with cheese, always leave room for the mouse’.
- Hector Hugh Munro

Mouse is Not A Thief, It is the hole that Allows Mouse In!

-Herman Jacobs

picture from internet

Deeply embedded in snow
Electric eye mesmerizing
In waves azure, mystical