A cadenza of life

The grandiose abstract opus of
An ethereal euphony of candor,
That no flowing sheet of canvas
Nor muslin enrobed in splendor,
Would ever thrive in embedding.
No gust of the unruffled maiden
Nor blaze of the golden sphere,
Could ever define nor enlighten.

Worthy not is an illumination of
Its undefined mystical existence.
Perhaps it is a voyage across two
Worlds of obscurity, vastly dense.
Or a dream carved on the walls of
Paradise, destined to mingle away
Into the heavenly aroma, whilst
Dusk hurls its shadow on the day.
Perhaps it resembles the essence of
Ever-flowing streams, liable to perish,
Or any of myriad other assessments
Earthlings offer and dotingly cherish.
If such resemblances deem essential
They may be held out to linger behind
Drowning in irrelevance, as a consequence
Of the undying folly of the mortal mind.

Dancing on shimmering amethyst petals,
The fortune fairies flout on the mortals
For assaying to reign over their
A liberty offered merely to the immortals!
When they who rule the sapphire sphere,
Choose not to define but live, learn and strive
Why do we earthlings feign ascendancy,
And assay defining, rather than realizing life?

Blooming rationality...

Life is a composite of four words, two realms of fantasy and reality, and some smiles and sighs. It's more of an ostentatious abstract painting, that doesn’t need a definition, but needs to be deciphered; and all it takes to decipher the code of life is a slice of common sense and a whole lot of logic and rationality. For life is to be understood and lived realizing it's worth, not lived by merely defining the live we live.
There lies a thin line of discrimination, defining the two realms of fantasy and reality and erasing this lie would muddle you up as to on which bank do you stand. So, what does it take to possess this whole lot of rationality, as we've put it? What does it take to realize this tantalizing essence of life and be on the right bank? Life can't be possessed, for it saunters into us by dint of its own whims and fancies and departs in the very similar manner. So, terming it tantalizing wouldn't be phony. What does it take... what? Muslin sheets of well-crafted success, an ocean of bliss, dearth of any fleeting grief, the health of King Henry, the eighth or the wealth of Midas? No... the Wisdom of King Solomon is all that you need, and any sane soul would proudly assure you that! To put it in bare British, knowledge and knowledge in true sense is all you need in the twenty-first century, to really live life, that is let yourself live life and not allow the ship of destiny set sail and drive you to the bank she desires. Framing it into one precise and highly appropriate word – 'Education', which is the call of the day.
This enchanting word that lies as the secret of the world's prosperity, unlocks the basic necessities of the human mind, of a rational creature. Basic necessities usually refer to shelter, food and clothing, yet that bears allusion to the physical and not the mental concept of a rational being. Necessities of the mind would be the crystal clear answers as to how to face the scenario he lives against, understand the life he lives and render his own meaning to it, face the world he dwells in, express his own notions as well as realize the others of the 'he', the 'she' and the 'they' but most notably, the significance of the word, 'me'. The slice of education while shimmer on his soul, with the pride of perfection. It's melt away to seep into the individual's soul and answer his burning question of the meaning of his own life, need of existence and definitely the purpose. Education will answer him his own significance and hold of himself and his senses.
So, this is the mystic lure of education. The essence that binds reasons and indispensable reasons as too... the essence that binds wandering souls to life itself!

A gist of yesterday dissolving in my today

Questions and questions, some unanswered and some left unquestioned itself! Every heart has an emotion and every eye a motion – yet here I stand today as some solicit poetry scribbled on a spoonful of sand, destined to mingle away into nothingness, when night casts her shadow of obscurity and murk. They say, there lies a thin line between the reality and the fantasy… once erased you never know where you lie. That is, as per my notions, you get yourself mingling up your dreams and reality, emphasizing on dreams, ignoring the real as well as leaving dreams as dreams and not molding it into actions.
Numb and lost am I now… Perhaps I’ve never questioned, perhaps never pondered over it as well, yet I plunge myself into the essence of this placid early spring day and enquire of my dreams.
Yes, I've dreamt. I've dreamt and lived my dreams, dreamt and left them as mere dreams also! It's only when I won that I smiled, least it were tears of grief, exhausted in any trivial loss resulting in a significant loss of sangfroid. Well aware am I that these beads and crystal clear pearls of turbulent emotions no mirth for tomorrow, rather deepen the wounds of today; yet any trivial failure compels me to cry my heart out in some corner of room, in an attempt to blow away the murk in a corner of my heart. It's definitely easy to smile amidst mirth, never grief... just as it's easy to spread your wings and fly along with the gusts of wind, rather than against them.
Still then, live... live to the fullest... live for the today in hand, live to see a smiling tomorrow, not to regret and brood over the dead past. 'Forget the past for the past is dead'. This is something whose significance I am least aware of, allow me to rephrase, I am reluctant make myself aware of. Don't they forget that people live for certain fragments that the past has buried with the flow of time, certain memories of it that don't pose but essentially are the exalter of life? As for the unpleasant moments, forgetting would be a lame option. Let us give ourselves a chance to trust again, relive the wrong times yet without the wrong, and restore our fading confidence over matters that didn't deem it essential to allow our emotions to consider it.
After all, that's supposed to be life, an unpaved circle – it starts from a point, saunters away, but dissolves into its beginning, which is the ultimatum. So, probably, the petals of love and wrath shattered within are each of the same demeanor, that's beginning to end in the same point and enclosing a whole lot of unfathomable intensified emotions, in the process. At times, life seems like some enigmatic race amidst forbidden fantasies. Well, perhaps this enigma is life – the most emphatic word in the nothingness of space.

Blood and ink...

The strike of a sword can annihilate life from lands, drench the soil with innocent blood and reduce mighty kingdoms to mere ashes. The venom of this blood thirsty creature can destroy almost anything and everything that stumbles across its path… But Alas! That's it! That is all it is ever capable of. It's fame is by dint of its notoriety - nothing but a weapon of destruction and discord is what it can be defined as. It can stir waves of resentment, grief and revenge, but never a slice of realization. It can ignite the flame of wrath and rage wars but never skim across the crystals of peace, not to mention of controlling and bringing about a positive change. Unsurprisingly, we mortals bow to the sword, but believe me and believe your hearts, it's out of sheer fright of the wrong, not respect for the right. That's because the sword conquer lands, it’s not an instrument of the true philosophy of life.
It doesn't require an Excalibur to permit the dawn of realization; all it needs is a piece of paper and a bottle of ink. To jut it down precisely, all the world needs today to restore its lost sanity and cooperation as well as enhance its prosperity is the motion of the slim metallic beauty-the pen. Swords fight battles, win triumphant victories and conquer endless stretches of land, while a single pen may ignite the war, concentrate its intensity or for that matter, even subdue it into feathers of peace. The words it carves are more than enough to convince the minds of people in any direction it desires. The miraculous powers of this insurmountable pen are definitely victorious over those of the sword, for written words hit harder than the strike of the swords and imprint a never-fading mark on the minds.