Fourlinegraphia

Poverty is not just suffering- it erases a person’s identity, dignity, and future. She does not know the beauity  of her wheat skin- only the pallor dust has made her own, a breath of ash that settles in her lungs, a whiteness worn more deeply than her skin. *** The mill persists,an unrelenting will- its iron throat consuming hours and bone; each turning stone inscribes upon her hands the grammar of a life reduced to toil. *** No dawn attends her with a gentler name. I call her thus-the maiden made of golden grain, for she is bound to what she cannot taste, and shaped by what she labors to sustain. *** They number sacks yet never reckon need, they weigh the flour but never measure worth. Within her, hunger ripens into fire, a slow, consuming argument with flesh. *** No bread is hers, though bread is what she makes; she feeds on dust that settles at her lips, as if the body, schooled in long denial, might learn to live on absence made to seem. *** Her wages are the residue of work: ...

  In Silent Valley, I came so small, A cricket with dreams, with love for all, To spread soft peace in silent air, And sing of kindness everywhere. *** I thought this land, so calm and deep, Was where all hearts in peace could sleep, A place of love, so pure and wide, Where no harsh truths would ever hide. *** Upon a branch, with silver mane, Sat the Lion-tailed macaque in silent frame, He looked at me, so still, so wise, As if he knew life’s hidden ties. *** “Dear little one,” he softly said, “Not all is calm as it is read, This is no land of gentle peace, Where all your tender songs find ease.” *** “There is no place for you to live, This world takes more than it can give, This valley strong, both wild and true, Is not a place designed for you.” *** I paused my song, my voice grew weak, “Is there no place for love I seek? No space for care, no gentle art, To share the warmth within my heart?” *** He spoke again, “You must understand, Not every soul can fit each land, Nature is ne...

Beneath the earth, in ant-tunnels dim and long, I walked with my flying Mind, where silence turns to song. A crystal lay, like sunlight held in clay- A fragile truth that shimmered for a day. *///* My Mind asked softly, “Does this sweetness give life, Or is it but a spark that turns to strife?” I said, “If one believes it is the whole, Then loss will surely fracture such a soul.” *///* An ant rushed forth, like fire that leaps to claim: “This joy,” she cried, “and I are but the same.” She clutched it tight, as though it held her breath, While fear stood near, the quiet twin of death. *///* Here, desire mistook the part for whole- A hunger crowned and named itself the soul. What pleased the sense, she gathered into truth, And chained her being to its fleeting youth. *///* My Mind then whispered, “See how craving binds; Each grasp for more leaves hidden pain behind.” I felt the truth beneath that fragile sight: What’s held too hard can never hold the light. *///* Another came, like still...

Is this the peace we name ? a fragile hush, Between the past that burns and threats to come? A silence stitched with fear, not healing truth, Where wounds lie still, yet whisper what’s undone. *** In shadowed quiet where soft voices fade, There lies a truth too weighty to be held- A fragile hope delayed by our own hands, Awaiting those whose courage is not quelled. *** Peace is not born from darkness holding breath, Nor from the calm complacency defends; It lives within the fury of the storm, A fire through which the will to stand transcends. *** Across the earth, divided voices rise, Not seeking justice, only victory; As if the act of winning broken wars Could mend the roots of fractured dignity. *** And those who wear the symbols forged for peace Stand silent, bound by words that lost their claim; They watch as history repeats its wounds, Yet fail to act, and still invoke its name. *** If we do not act when the moment calls, What right have we to say that we are one? If titles mask t...

 Before I saw, I learned to name the dark, As “is” and “is not,” drawn in fragile lines; Like hands that trace the edges of a spark, Yet never grasp the fire that truly shines. *** Beyond my thought, something vast remains, Unseen, like oceans pressing into shell; Its distant pulse moves softly through my veins, A truth I feel, yet cannot fully tell. *** I live enclosed, like seeds beneath the soil, Believing earth and darkness are the whole; Unknowing of the sky beyond this coil, Or winds that wait to carry forth the soul. *** Like one once held within a hidden womb, Who never saw the vastness of the sky, Yet felt faint echoes through the gentle gloom, A distant life that slowly drifted by. *** And even now, in stillness, I can feel A subtle pull, like tides I cannot see; A silent force that does not speak, yet real, A hidden door that waits to open me. *** What I call end may be a breaking free, Like shells that crack to let new life begin; Not fall to void, but vast immensity, A...

  True bliss is not found in desire, but in dignity, compassion, and a love that heals The Bliss !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like autumn leaves unmoored from memory, My years were borne on time’s unpitying sea. Not to replace the love I once had known, But seeking still a peace to call my own. *** A bud was bound before it learned to bloom, A bride adorned in youth’s unripe perfume. Yet motherhood, that distant, sacred flame, Withdrew its light and would not speak my name. *** I wandered through white halls of muted breath, Where hope lay pale, acquainted close with death. In shrines where incense veiled the weeping air, I knelt among the ashes of despair. *** The stars, in cold indifference, were aligned To write denial deep within my mind. Their silent scripts, like frost on tender ground, Left barren fields where dreams were never found. *** Through searing suns that scorched the patient land, Through monsoon grief no heart could understand, I walked as one whom fate had marked apart, A q...