Appreciation

That red spot on your forehead

It’s so quaint! Exotic, you could say

Do you put it there to cover third eye?

Whatever it may mean I’ll give it a try

Vermilion on your parting is a bit too much

Garish, like spilt blood, that I can’t extol

From Indian make over I’ll give it a skip

Such distasteful sight in the bud let us nip

Red and white bangles your wrists adorn

I don’t want the reason why they are worn

With some of my outfit they’ll go well

All this is appreciation as you can tell

I see your frowns and your glances askance

You’ve made a habit of contrary stance

Where’s the harm in imitating you

It adds to my flair and gives it hue

Stories behind we can afford to forget

Blessed or cursed, no need to regret

Share these trappings, so far as I agree

Be happy  that you have inspired me.

A Gust of Wind

It came to play, it came not to stay

A merry gust of lively breeze

Fresh smelling, to unfreeze

Stolid lives; running fleet of foot

Through vacant eyes that lay

Like empty galleries in abandoned theaters

There no voices resonate, no applause

The thread broken, a permanent pause

And laughing, it passed away

Leaving them to their miserable sway

Now memory spins its yarn

Weaving old tales into new fabric

Lived and wished, known and longed

Mingling threads, marking a dawn.

Realities

Your reality matches not mine
Perchance they mingle for a while
Perchance they stand opposed
Mostly, they stand apart
Until third eye opens for both
To see eye to eye, feel heart to heart
Worlds within world we create, then destroy
Each day a birth, each night a death
Interspersed with moments of nothingness
To live, to love, to breathe own reality.
Long our hours of illusion
Longer our years of delusion
Blindfolded we journey in hordes
Yearning, gaining, holding, losing
Till Truth stands revealed- undisputed
Undeniable that force
Yet some sleep on undisturbed
Others wake to walk beaten paths
A few break free to forge routes anew
Each destined reality to renew.