May Light always surround you;
Hope kindle and rebound you.
May your Hurts turn to Healing;
Your Heart embrace Feeling.
May Wounds become Wisdom;
Every Kindness a Prism.
May Laughter infect you;
Your Passion resurrect you.
May Goodness inspire
your Deepest Desires.
Through all that you Reach For,
May your arms Never Tire.
~D. Simone
Happy New Year
Childhood game.
Agree and disagree.
Disagree and agree
was simple and fun.
Being in adulthood
for a long period.
Things are twisted.
Minds get rigid.
Ideas are fixed.
Windows are
tightly shut.
Agree – disagree
is not fun any more.
Friends mock others.
For being liberal.
For being kind to others.
Being rationale.
And most of all
for opposing
the fake image
of nationalism.
Staying and suffering
was optional.
The weight of
fake friendships was
heavy.
She chose freedom.
Now question is
Will she be happy?
****************************
Be kind
Spring in me
Denial demands struggle.
I welcome.
Slowly moving forward.
No constant exists in this equation called life.
Life depends on the moments which varies every macro moment.
It’s totally up to us if we want to add variables which are directly proportional to our happiness & peace.
Last but not least we need to balance the white noise or else the streak of life is out of control.
Choose your variables wisely.
One moment of patience may ward off great disaster. One moment of impatience may ruin a whole life ~ Chinese proverb
At times,
external makes its hard to
reach the internal
of a situation or a human.
Instead of gazing
and pretending
to get to the core
Let time
take its course.
Have patience.
**********************
When real warriors
fail to defeat an antagonist,
we dream of a fictitious saviour,
who will come to help us on a sunny day
with a bright shining sword.
***********************************
“Perfection”
Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind.
Every star-thistle has a thorn.
Every flower has a blemish.
Every wave washes back upon itself.
Every ocean embraces a storm.
Every raindrop falls with precision.
Every slithering snail leaves its silver trail.
Every butterfly flies until its wings are torn.
Every tree-frog is obligated to sing.
Every sound has an echo in the canyon.
Every pine drops its needles to the forest floor.
Creation’s whispered breath at dusk comes
with a frost and leaves within dawn’s faint mist,
for all of existence remains perfect, adorned,
with a dead sparrow on the ground.
Poet –
Inspired by Becca’s Sunday Trees
“Place a beehive on my grave
And let the honey soak through.
When I’m dead and gone,
That’s what I want from you.
The streets of heaven are gold and sunny,
But I’ll stick with my plot and a pot of honey.
Place a beehive on my grave
And let the honey soak through.”
― The Secret Life of Bees
Daffodowndilly
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.”
When We Were Very Young]
mazeepuran (माझे e-पुराण) 
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