Look! (A Poem)

Look!

Look at the night
Starry, beautiful
Orbs twinkling in the darkness
Like hope flickers in the heart of
The despairing man
So silently.
Look at the way
The moonlight cuts through
The lace curtains, in
Shafts, snow-white, dancing
In the breeze
Ever-changing.
Look at the girl,
Sitting in her chair,
Writing, never ceasing, filling
Pages and pages,
In her unenvied hand
Stories from lands far away,
Trickling from hands stained blue with ink,
To yellowed paper no one will see.
Look at the man,
Laughing with his sister,
His smile never was more joyous
Their last time together
Before he goes away in the fall.
Look at the endless sky,
Look up, and marvel
At the possibilities,
Look within, you will find
Your greatness.
But it is late now, and the night must sleep,
So she will fade into oblivion,
Taking secrets  with her
And then the dawn will come
To take her place,
Look, the sun will rise.

The Ostrich Who Could Fly

Hello, everyone!  I'm writing a blog post after an unusually long time.
I wrote a poem; I hope y'all like it! 


The Ostrich Who Could Fly

Once as I was walking
Across a barren land,
I chanced upon an ostrich
With his head half in the sand.

I stopped awhile, listened closely,
The ostrich was now weeping
I asked him what was wrong;
He didn't answer; silence creeping.

He straightened his long neck,
And pointed to the sky
I craned my neck to see and I saw
Ostriches that could fly.

Tears were running down his cheeks,
I asked him,"Didn't you try?"
"I did," he said, his voice cracking,
"I s'pose I'm not meant to fly."

"Try a thousand times," I said,
"You'll fly eventually, you'll see,
Just because you couldn't fly then
Doesn't mean that's all you can be."

The ostrich nodded, wiped his tears,
I left him to his devices,
Life's too short to be bogged down
By these insignificant crises.

A few months later, I walked again
Across that barren land,
I'd forgotten all about
The ostrich in the sand.

But then I saw a shadow
On the ground ahead of me
And I remembered the ostrich
Who had wanted to be free.

I looked up, and there he was
Soaring gracefully through the air
I smiled to myself, and realized
Life really isn't unfair.

~Vruta Gupte.

P.S. I've added Disqus comments on here (only people who are viewing this on their computers will be able to see it, but if you're using a cellphone, you can still comment using the default Blogger comment box.)  

If you want to check out more of my writing, please click here. Thank you! 

Extra Short Poems #1

Hey guys,

This is one of my extra short poems (as is evident from the title, heh).

Drawing

And I couldn't draw a straight line for the life of me,
Even if you'd pinned me up against a tree
And I don't know what to do now,
Maybe I'll eat mein Chow.

~ Vruta Gupte.

P.S. If you set this to jazz music, it'll sound better, because that's how I imagined it.

I'm kidding; imagine it however you like.

P.P.S. Is the semicolon obsolete yet? Oh, no, it isn't; good.

P.P.P.S Want to read more of my writing? Click here!

I've added Disqus comments on here.  Please click on the time-stamp near the end of the post to comment.  (If you don't have a Disqus account, you can still comment as a guest with a custom name.) Thank you!

Cocoon (Or 'How To Become A Butterfly')

Cocoon

There once was a caterpillar;
He lived in a cocoon
He used to wonder if he would ever see the sun
Or the moon, 
Or the stars shining brilliantly in the sky.
He wondered
What he would look like
When he would become a butterfly.
He'd only heard about all these
In poems or in stories
He waited, and waited, 
And waited to be free--
To be free, and to fly
From the cocoon in the tree.
He ate and he slept 
And he laughed and he wept
And he wondered, how he wondered!
Would he ever get out of the cocoon in the tree?
He remembered his mother telling him,
"You'll only be a butterfly
If you really, really want to try."
And so he tried.
He tried, he tried, and he
Tried to be a butterfly,
But he couldn't.
He couldn't be a butterfly--
He cried.
He thought of living 
Forever in the cocoon in the tree
He thought of giving
Up his fanatical fantasy.
But he didn't--
And he tried, he tried, he tried,
He cried, he cried, he tried
And finally he made a hole in the silk of his cocoon
(It wasn't a hole, but he called it one.)
And he cried tears of joy as he saw the starlight,
And he cried tears of joy as he saw the moon
And he broke out and flew away from his little cocoon.

 - Vruta Gupte.

Want to read more of my writing? Click here!

P.S. I've added Disqus comments on here.  Please click on the time-stamp near the end of the post to comment.  (If you don't have a Disqus account, you can still comment as a guest with a custom name.) Thank you!