Sunday, 24 July 2016

Blackdust.

BLACKDUST.

Darkness,
Black.
Unyielding.
Look around,
What do you see?
No floodlights
To save you this time
As you put your hand
Out over the edge of
The cliff; no candles
To burn the letters from me
You wish to hide.
No mist to
Lose yourself in,
Vanish, with a
Flourish of your cape, from
Time.
There is nothing
You can lean on,
Nothing to
Set you free;
No clouds to scream at,
No storms but 
The one within yourself, are you
Sure you will not listen
To me?  I will tell you tales
Of a land not far away from
Here, that you will go to one day—so
Keep walking, even if there are
No floodlights
To save you this time
No candles 
To burn my letters
No mist
To hide away in;
A land where you can wish
For the orange sunrise and you will see it,
You can wish for yellow cornfields and 
Run past them 
You can build your own
House in the sunlight,
You can rub your eyes in the morning, and say,
“I have arrived,”
Go on, my friend, there are
Many doors you have not yet opened,
Many people you have not met,
Many things you have not seen;
There is far more to life, far more to
Believing
Than this moment in Time when you
Want to run away
From this smoke in the air that you
Would rather not breathe,
You must lead—for only
Then I will follow you
Out of the dust and 
Into space; finally
We will be free.

~Vruta Gupte (2016).

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Vision.

VISION.

When

We are old will you

Stay with me?

Guide me with the light of

My fading eyes whitened

With age, will you

Show space to me?

The stars, the moon,

The galaxies,

Jupiter and Saturn

Andromeda and Regulus, will you

Watch me as I fiddle

Uneasily with my pen when I

Can’t see what I’m writing, when I

Knock my favourite vase down,

Can’t I see?

I can’t see, will you

Walk me down the aisles of the

Library we will go to, as I ask

You where I can

Find Fountainhead and Macbeth, will you

Hold my hand when

We are alone and I want to go out but I

Can’t find the doorknob, will you

Sing with me when I remember suddenly

The words to a nursery rhyme from

Long ago when I was smaller?

When

We are old will you

See with me?

~Vruta Gupte (2016).

Sunday, 10 July 2016

Nostalgia.

As we walk along the path

That is Life

Our roads may diverge

Yours may be bright and sunny

With meadows green and silent, peaceful

Mine may be full of colour, a forest, and falling rain

And even if sometimes your way seems

Filled with potholes and snakes and wetlands;

And mine, with red fire burning, and all the trees gone,

Remember.

Remember that once we walked together, endured together,

Through soot and snow,

With cold water in our shoes;

You shook it out, I couldn’t

Remember.

A road fraught with perils, danger lurking

Around every bend,

You fought them, I didn’t.

And we went our own

Separate ways.

Someday when you look back

You will laugh at your past

Worrying self, you will

Wake up to the sunrise at the edge of

The earth, and you will look out into the distance, and say,

“What a wonderful day, o me, o Life!”

Remember,

We never know the places we’ll go

Until we reach them.

We never cross the rapids in rivers

Until we fight them.

We never bother to see

How good life is with our tiny, tiny problems

Until we see another, without.

You will look out into the distance,

And you will see a sillhouette.

By then you will have forgotten, but your heart will tell you--

I know her from somewhere.

First slowly, and then all at once, you will

Remember

The first snowfall, six feet high, us, trudging along

Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening,

Helping a squirrel

With her acorns before the icy winter,

Watching as the leaves on trees wither and die,

Wondering if we will, too;

Forgetting that spring and fall come after,

And all will be well

Once again, this time, forever.

I will be close enough, then, for you to

Look into my eyes

And see how much I missed you,

Walking beside you, laughing with you;

After years of searching for the perfect Life,

With cold gold in our pockets,

But none to share it with,

We find each other.

I will take your hand,

And lead you onward

To the beginning

Of a new adventure.


~Vruta Gupte (2016).

~ rain.

The rain Has forced me to contemplate  Upon myself, my deeds, and my shortcomings. My inherent hesitation Whose roots I do not remembe...