Middle Magic

This is a comment on this delightful post. Flying back from Nepal, he tangles , desolate in a middle seat, with two Nepalese natives in adjoining seats, who avidly wait to sight the ocean., while he hankers after a piece of snow topped mountain peaks , brilliant in the sun.

(photo by Kavi Arasu, courtesy the suddenly availabe window seat)


Immovable,
strong,
and tall in life,
some stand,
impervious to
the vagaries of destiny,
unaffected with
travails of aging,
cloudy memories,
loss of green,
and stark realities.



A Balance
delicately managed
far away below,
by the rippling waves
glistening in the sun,
turning every way
indicated
by
the tides of life.

We live on,
in between,
swinging
wildly,
between
the stoic
and the submissive,
hankering,
the haves
after the have-nots.

Strangely, that is life;
Ecstatic, worried,
tense, peaceful,
troubling,
and sometimes,
demanding.

And the old man of the North
winks in the
face of a shining sun,
smiles at the Ocean,
and says ,
"Did you see
those 3,
clicking
on their ambitions,
in the jet Airways
contraption
that just went by ?"