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Art And Culture: CONFLAGRATIONS

CONFLAGRATIONS

CONFLAGRATIONS

Secret of life,

So simple that a flower of the forest knows,

And  the sages of all eras repeat,

in a way how light transcends

From the fresh dawns

To rise from slumber that the same fire

Set ablaze to ignite a campaign

Of revulsion in the noon..

Then the shadows dance

Beneath the velvet leafs

To reform in renaissance..

As hard as the frozen ice

A wall is made of broken splinters

Of a feel of lost trust

Again how well the universe unfolds

The unknown cosmos in a way

To sit quiet and watch

The mystery of a strange landscape,

Until then it is all fragrance and grace

A sorrow hidden is pulled out.

A quarrel of the closed doors

Is strewn as requite in unkind

Compartments of life..

Renouncing a day’s struggle

It is simple that each moment

Is a gift that it is a feather of a bird

What saints of the silent hills say

In cantos of kindness

Is to find happiness in simple things

Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself’

Is for sure a golden commandment

Life at times turns out a canto of chaos

Against a scenic painting adorns

The wall of a liberal art colonnade,

Not always sit that quietly to the songs

of the savants, nor the strophes

Instead it takes a pen and splashes ink

Over it to strike through a word in cold rage

Ahead the anthem of a pure heart..

It is so simple that the flame

Is same and torch bearers

Not alike that each one ignites

A beat that has the shape

Of a secret island of despair,

Fear, love, hatred, compassion

And many such myriad feelings

Traverse not in control

In convoluted cross roads

It is not the heart changes

But the hidden flames ignited

in its secret chambers..

It is not the heart changes

But the hidden flames ignited

in its secret chambers..

Peace may be the silent ice

Gently placed on a pain filled hearth

To artfully cover the traumatic flames

For a while, as sages and saints say

Fire, rain and flowers

of all seasons, momentary!

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