Awakenings

This is the first poem I ever wrote...

It was just after watching the movie of the same title, starring one my all-time favourites Robert DeNiro. The movie is based on a true story of what happens when long-term comatose patients start waking up after they receive a revolutionary drug.

A poignantly beautiful movie about the fragility of life, it got me thinking about how they must have felt, when they awoke to a 'Whole New World' & where they might have been during all those years of silent vigil.

I don't know why I've been thinking about it today - maybe it has something to do with 'The Year of the Rat' and new beginnings or the fact I will turn 40 this year, or the fact that we are waiting for our Baby to arrive, or all of the above! Or maybe it's just my gut telling me, 2008 - is truly the year of my Awakening!

Awakenings

What is my cage?
If not of bars, of thoughts,
Of words, of dreams.
What is it that keeps me from myself,
If not a cage.

What is it that brings me joy?
Helps me fly, touch the sky.
Keeps me from drowning, keeps me afloat,
A touch of sunlight, a ray of hope.

Where is my soul if not within,
And is my heart in perfect sync?
My mind, it soars,
My eyes, they bore,
Into the future and the past,
Until I am at peace at last.

- Harsha

MUSIC

Music is all around…

In raindrops falling soft and light,
Or thunderstorms, crackling bright,
In the quick march of army boots,
And the low notes of a night owl’s hoot.

In the pitter-patter of little feet,
In the silence of a golden sleep,
Dreams unleash their silent beats,
Music dwells in every heartbeat.

In a baby’s cry and a mother’s sigh,
On quivering lips and mountains high,
In a lover’s song and the temple gong,
Loud and clear, pure and strong.

In the timeless changing of seasons,
And sometimes, for no good reason!
All around us music plays,
In lullabies and ‘Amazing Grace'.

From swaying trees and rustling leaves,
In the trickle of water before the freeze,
Or wafting by on an ocean breeze,
Music brings a sweet release.

Through the gay abandon of letting go,
In the eyes of parents, all aglow,
In the laughter of children and magic of song,
All around us music abounds.

In the maddening chatter of teenage voice,
Where old friends gather and rejoice,
In nostalgic melodies and modern rhymes,
Music takes us, on a journey through time.

In a beautiful dancer’s form and grace,
Music claims eternal space,
Swaying hips and tapping feet,
Moving to the rhythm of soulful beats.

Over and under, inside and out,
Whisper, holler, yell and shout,
Can’t escape it, won’t let go,
Makes spirits sing and passion flow.

In the stillness of morning and calmness of dawn,
Lie infinite beginnings of magical songs.
Conquering boredom, softening thorn,
In every moment, music is born.

- Harsha

'Father Time'

Sometimes it’s hard to know,
If ‘Time’ is friend or hateful foe.
Racing along when he should walk slow,
Standing still when he needs to flow.

He’s ‘Father’, he’s money,
And sometimes just funny!
Laughing, crying. angry, sad,
And at times, just plain bad.

He has his own energy, walks his own pace,
While men run his awkward race.
Some with passion, some with grace,
Some with red and puffy face!

He has a mind all his own,
To terrorize, humble, soothe or clone.
No beginnings, never ends,
Worst of enemies, best of friends.

He pays no heed to human emotions,
Traveling along in his own motion.
Raising mountains, filling oceans,
Watching the rise and fall of nations.

Does he mend broken hearts, and heal broken bones?
Or maybe turn men to stone?
He turns tiny seeds into giant trees,
And then cuts them down with scary ease.

He can be as gentle as a baby’s breath,
Or cold and hard, still as death.
How might we stop him, make him care?
To solve his riddle, who would dare?


- Harsha