Revelations through life's dichotomies

Strings pulled upon by the bow
Waves propagate intensely
With a mix of passion, love, fear and terror

How magical, from the mere vibrations of inanimate particles,
that form elaborate waves,
that are melodious to the ears,
and then somehow,
becomes animated into one’s heart and soul.

Two ears to hear, to listen, much more than speaking…

No wonder, a friend once told me, a child who learns music tends not to the wayside. I think, for they listen more, to this beautiful realm of shapely waves.

(Source: jimmisophy.wordpress.com)

There she is in the garden
Dressed in scarlet red
I beg her pardon
As I leave with dread

To begin the day with longing…

Till the evening star rises
I return for my rose
With tender words, no guises
She just sways in lovely pose

The night should be unending…

Then all past absence forgotten
For what matters is the moment
I wonder if I will be bitten
Painful or sweet is yet apparent

“It is a very confusing feeling. That you are physically absent yet always present in my mind…”

(Source: jimmisophy.wordpress.com)

It’s enticing.

Like the red of the licorice flower.

The lusciousness of it drew all the senses in.

To partake in its beauty and be drunk.

Drunk in all the dreams that it provides, tainted with that glaring red.

The passion, the vivaciousness, the intensity, immensity of all condenses into a rich red pearl.

It represents you, or does it in the other way? Or really, what other ways can I describe this thing, this sensation which send me to another realm?

Perhaps still, there might be many…

Alas, I paled so much before this licorice flower…

A butterfly flirted there for a little while, but flutter then away to another place, for its beauty was too much…

(Source: jimmisophy.wordpress.com)

Toiling sandman
You forget me
To no avail a plan
For wake to be drowsy

The mind too occupied
Sandman, have u tried?
Maybe you’ve had indeed
But the sand – more is in need

A rose of thorns
Gently held
A kind of touch
Intricate feel
Lovely though
To behold long
Holding still
To sense
From such distance
And be lost
In enchantment

How the path extends, mystifying
Out into depths falling
High into clouds rising
Never seeing
Further stepping

At the front, a thick fog
But such clarity at the rear
That’s how one walk
Onward with no fear

Never dwell in the etched past
No toil will alter last
By faith, challenge the unknown
Live in the moment, enthroned

black-tangled-heart:

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground

via alecshao

(Source: likeafieldmouse, via arpeggia)

Strolling down the usual path
Knocked off and yearn a bath
Tired, worn out, stressed up
Droopy eyes for once lift up
Into the sky, a strange sight
A heavy heart with sudden delight

Since when the sky is there?
With a beautiful, persian blue
Since when the moon is so beautiful?
With such glow to behold
Since when the flowers bloom along the sidewalk?
They are sweet to the eyes
The greenery, the weeds, the wind
All came crashing on my senses
And ultimately my soul

Beauty has always been there
It’s only a matter of beholding
Let not the toils blind
Look out, look up
To beauty, to the Creator
“Thank you”, I whispered.

The terrible sound of howling winds
Wings too magnificent to behold
Fiery with judgment
How acute the sense of mortality
Who can stand before death?
The puffiness was but now revealed as emptiness

But, but..
Love conquers all
The fear of death nullified
When one has truly loved
How does one love?
With all his heart and soul
Passionately, unceasingly
Painfully, vulnerably
A beautiful mix of bitterness and sweetness
The aftertaste though, is always sweet
No regrets, even though one has been stabbed
And tasted death

And hence, alas!
When facing the Angel of Death,
One knows no fear
For Love is the ultimate conqueror
Even as death comes
One even embraces it in love
and understands Death

Hopefully at that time,
One has tasted or envisioned perfect love
Yes, even envisioning is good enough
To be in that state of mind and heart
Always in a season of love
like the beautiful array of flowers in Spring
or like the hue of Autumn
With that sparkle in the eyes
See beauty in all
That life will not be in vain..