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The Spectrum and the Frame

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  Fourlinegraphia: We gave you red when you bled into life, then taught you to hide it, to bow in the dark. The blood that bore children, the blood of the wife, we named it a shadow, a stain, and a mark. We built walls around temples and kitchens and doors, and called it tradition, and called it divine. She: I took back the red that was rightfully mine- the pulse in my veins, the raw warmth of the bone. I washed off the shame that was never my own. Fourlinegraphia: We gave you white when he slipped from your side, as if grief were a dress you were destined to wear. We draped you in silence, we stripped you of pride, and measured your sorrow by what you must bear. She: I folded the white into wide, open space, not a shroud for a ghost, but a place to begin. I stepped past the mourning they drew on my face, and let the fresh light of the morning come in. Fourlinegraphia: We painted you green for the children you grew, celebrated the mother, forgot who you were. We gave you gold for a...
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Whose Path Am I Walking?

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I do not fear dying without my consent-  it is living on this earth that fills my heart with dread. On the road ahead,what hurdles lie in wait for me? They say, “Keep moving forward”but forward to where? Who decided this destination? Whom did I ask to be born? Whom did I request for this body? Why does this very breath enter and leave my chest without my permission? Why am I made to walk without my consent? Outside doors I never opened, who wrote my name?On paths I never chose, who drew my footprints? “You must live,” they say-by whose law? “You must endure,” they say-by whose fate? “You must succeed,” they say-by whose yardstick? If I fall, many call out, “Get up!” But when I asked, “Why are we running?” the entire world fell silent. Oh world that claims ownership of my dreams, why do you put a price tag on my fears? Around me stand invisible walls in the name of family,  in the name of society,in the name of fear, in the name of a sweet lie called “For your own good.” To eve...
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My Own Path

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 I do not fear to die without consent, It is living on this earth that fills my heart with dread; What hurdles wait for me along the road ahead, And who decided where my journey should be spent? Whom did I ask before my life began to flow, Who gave this frame, this breath that enters without choice? Outside unopened doors, who wrote my name and voice, And drew my footprints on the paths I did not know? By whose unyielding law am I compelled to live, By whose heavy decree must I endure this pain? When I fell down, you called for me to rise again, Yet when I asked "Why run?", what answer could you give? Oh world that claims to own every dream I keep, Why do you fix a price on every fear I feel? Behind invisible walls of home and public zeal, I ask just one thing: where is my consent so deep? Inside me sits a hand that holds the guiding reins- Is it fate, or God, or rules, or prisons of my mind? I do not wish to break the people that I find, I only seek to tear away these heavy ...
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The Dawn Dream

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  In a sweet dream of early dawn, I turned into a butterfly today, Across the sky, earth, flowers, and lawn, I flew around you with colorful wings at play. The rain-cloud dark and azure sky Became a lake of wondrous grace, The sun, the moon, and stars on high Turned into blue lotuses in space. Like an unknown river from rain-clouds springing Out of the core of my soul's deep stream, In youth's spilled cascade of thoughts up-winging, I sang, forgetting myself in a dream. In a fragrant corner of my spirit residing, An idol of rare and cherished delight, Moments woken by honey-drops gliding Turned into a poetic realm so bright. With colors borrowed from the rainbow's arc, I crafted a world of magical grace, And on swaying blooms in the breeze, till dark, I strung sweet drops like a pearly trace on you. On shores of dreams where twilights bloom, I searched for golden mirages in sight, And became a tear of affection in the gloom Of the moon that watched through the silent night....
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The Rumour

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  Deep in a green and whispering wood, Where bamboo bowed to rain, A black crow and his feathered love Lived far above the plain. Their trust was deep, their bond was pure, Until one dawn displayed- A golden-blue egg in his nest, Where morning mist was laid. High up upon a hidden branch, A clever cuckoo smiled; She left her egg for him to raise, To save her growing child. The crow returned and stared in shock, Unsure what he had seen; When suddenly a myna cried From out the shady green: “She brought a stranger to your home! She broke her vow today! I saw her wings before the dawn As softly she flew away!” Another bird repeated it, A third bird made it worse; By noon, a tiny whispered lie Had grown into a curse. The faithful bird returned at dusk, Her wings still wet with rain, To find her lover’s guarded heart Now filled with doubt and pain. “I did not do it,” softly came Her trembling, tearful cry. “My heart was ever true to you- Why must you say I lie?” But no one listened. One b...
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Golden Hour

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  Where golden wheat fields meet the evening sky, And amber sunlight turns the world to gold, We walked together in the quiet light, While summer whispered stories left untold. The mountains stood beneath the painted clouds, A red barn rested as the day grew late, The old windmill turned slowly without sound, While peaceful shadows gathered at the gate. No words were spoken in the soft country air, For stillness held a truth we both could feel; The wheat bowed gently like a golden sea, And in your smile, the fleeting world stood still. A gentle breeze stirred through the endless grain, Tracing the path where side by side we strayed; The quiet road stretched outward to the hills, Beneath the sanctuary evening made. The last warm ray rested upon your face, And caught the quiet hope within your eyes; Between the grounding earth and fading day, We found a stillness under changing skies. Two wandering hearts found home within the breeze, A sudden grace no fleeting hour could rend; I loo...
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The Lantern Girl

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  Falling autumn leaves upon a silent stream,   The old River bazaar dissolves into a dream.   The bullock wheels, like pulses, fade away;   The tea-shop doors close softly with the day.   *** Down by the river, dark and wide and deep,   The wooden longboats glide as though asleep.   Their measured oars keep time with water's rhyme,   And carry home the shadows of old time.   *** He sailed away beneath a summer sky,   With promises that lingered in her mind.   His words, like seeds, sank deep within her heart,   Then drifted with the boat as it would part.   *** The river took him gently from the shore,   His voice grew faint, then faded evermore.   She stood alone beside the wooden door,   And listened for the footsteps she adored.   *** At dusk she lights the lantern's golden eye;   It burns like one small star b...
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