Helpless

For some, whose words fail, but whose fragrance pervades, and whose eyes speak. Praying this divali for new blossoms in some lives.


Divali,
the victory
of good over evil.

Is victory,
a cloud ,
that can bring neither rain ,
nor shady solace
to a
once blossoming mind
burning in the
dopamine heat ?



And the flower,
now a stick,
wilting,
struggling,
but still trying
to stay upright,
looks wordlessly
at the
helpless
flowers around it.

Sometimes the thorns
and the evil,
are one's own.

For a brave lady........

Resplendent in her prime,
Green in anticipation,
Swaying the silk in her leaves,
The breeze turns her head,
Branches twist in agony,
Painful dangerous bends that
leave some memory on the soil


Time and again she tries
to feel full and green,
The storm subsides
leaving the hurt;
Rainswept fertile minds
and grasses,
under the weird gaze of the cloud

The cloud she thought her own,
in its blackness
Darkens an already fearful mind,
Diseased spots of doubt.
What if the leaves just fall,
And leave a rigid trunk,
A dry leafless life,
Stems withering in the sun
Tremors of Agony...

The rain comes blowing in,
clearing the cobwebs of her mind,
Washing the leaves clear,
As tears drip down the trunk....
To embed below;

The cloud smirks, it has lost
the trust and love of the greens;
Slapped by an angry wind,
it rushes beyond the hills,
Leaving a tired but hopeful tree,
tickled by the nudging blades of grass,
growing up,
holding out a hand,
to say, we'll face it together.....