Snippets from a vase

Silver shadow,

the moon in splendor,'

a breeze started, the air stilled.

What is it i hear

humming like a ring, in my ear,

like a longing, a voice of love, unheard, heard!

Like the thought that wanders in a fakir's mind!

The moon shone

from the

infinite sky

I could be myself a lunatic,

a transfer personality

In the concert of stars I could hear

a single voice

the voice of the distant moon

a mirage ,

celestial notes drowned

all sounds,

submerged..

Inebriate

the night opens an eye

I sink in a depth

or am I rising on the wave?

Lunacy .... a desirable desire

The future of an illusion

and we are all responsible

The roles

we have assumed

from the beginning

in each eye

and in all together

This - a delusion continues

between the two forms

of time, real and unreal

... And the moon shone greater degree than ever

O cloud, come soft,

rain without a thunder.

Rain on cracks in the soil;

rain and heal the scars

There is a smile

on the moon's visage. Holding on to a cloud

is not as difficult as was thought.

Ethereal wings could be as real

as feet planted firmly on earth.

Moon and sun cover indulgently

... And the moon looked kinder to their game, absurd and childish

Then let the moon and the sun

hear and answer the need,

let me lie covered

under their indulgence,

warm , more real than the real

The dark clouds are pleased;

Lunacy is dear to all.

All dreams are born of lunacy,

All art, all prayers ,

all divinity,

what is it all, if not a supreme lunacy?

There is something beyond which gives us strength

It is beyond the parameters of lunacy and sanity

O ... what's this crazy, beautiful thing, but also dangerous.

O ... dreaming, dreaming sweet, what would the world be without you?

A place harrowing, pathetic and petty.

How charming her life under the rule of this wonderful madness ...

O... love, sublime love, the universe would be without you

a huge desert, a big nothing, a vacuum forever.

O ... life, amazing life, would be dead without you.

A prisoner of his own harangues, devouring the words and meaning.

... And the moon looked thoughtful, with all the understanding, kneading of thoughts,

and infirmities of men, encouraging them to madness and dreaming.

Art's divine; and everything comes from there; we'll go back there, only if we deserve, only if we reached the goal, only if we sent the right message.

If not, then we are doomed to start over in another life (in another's life), until we learn to be those beings, pure, full of love for which we were created / S.

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 Rocking on a chair

The bay is still. The tide has seen the day

rock in the lap of the sea today.

It has rolled away. The sounds of the surge, the froth at the tip of the wave

are quietly moving inside the rocky groove. .

By their absence I feel

the dark army of the clouds

marching in with a storm in their belly.

By their absence I feel them all,

the tide and its waves within the sea,

the gulls riding above the crest

of the tide now sleeping to rest its wings of frothy waves.

The wrathful dance saw its end;

the tide has rolled away.

A time for the reckoning of unnamed joys and unaccounted sorrows.

Sushama Karnik.

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 Waiting for a meeting so long

tell me what is your mind O God.

Reveal, thy unmanifest form

in the apparel of your majestic robe.

Make this happen someday, O God!

I have made a thousand supplications

in anguish. Humbly, soulfully have I touched the ground.

Do not spare your mirror so long

in the fear that it may crack.

The mirror you own is the one mirror

that gets dearer to the one who has crafted it.

The more the cracks, the more does it testify

to the heart which has broken innumerable times.

There is ecstasy in the torment of the heart yearning for you.

The harp is silent, the melody I could hear once, is lost in the silence of the harp.

The moth circling around the flame said this to the candle,

"Wisdom gained at the cost of a lifetime

is not found in the relentless burning of your heart

nor can it be found in my poignant prayers for grace. "

My dark misdeeds found no refuge in the wide world.

If at all they found a place, it was the last resort, your forgiveness.

For me neither the warmth of love nor the playful indulgence of the games of passion now.

I am past the romance of the restless prince, and past the lure of the beloved's enticing hair tied in a knot.

Even as my forehead touches the ground in fervour of the salute,

A voice arises from the earth I touch.

It says. "Your heart is entangled still

in your material wants and needs

So long as this entanglement,

so long shall be withheld your reward."

A simplified rendering of Allama Iqbal's ghazal.

 A Blind Date

when we close our eyes and just listen,

and look for the words we do not say

behind the screen of what we say,

and find our way through the medley

of what we said, and did not say,

and in hindsight

continue to figure out what we really wanted to say.

July 5, 2022

 On a moonlit night by the ancient fort

the torchbearer halted.

Troubled by the toxic rhetoric of hatred

the torch-bearer could not sleep.

A dove trying to build a nest brought a twig,

and was searching place. All around,

the noises of battle raged in the day;

the dove had nowhere to go.

A mythical creature, a hybrid of all,

came from the land of the moon and star,

propelled by the energy of sun holding for the dove

a scimitar for peace.

'' Live to protect life on earth. This weapon is called Love.

Hold it silently and have faith. The only war,

the mother of all wars, is the word that causes a belief in Love" "Love", the brilliant word long withheld in some divine poet's heart, was articulated on that night and was heard by all.

Sushama Karnik.

july5,2022

  

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The night was darkening fast,

And yet not as much darkening

As was deepening in the blue.

The gorge of the sea was silently strong,

And the echoes of our muted tones

Rose in the air and brushed the waves past.

The long sought rendezvous occurred at last, me carrying

A silver crown, and you a coat of the years of experience.

There was no more time for you and me to waste, and no more words we could invent

To cover up the distances we had tracked and the heights we had scaled, and the valleys and woods we walked barefoot

before we found this place.

The moon, contented, happy,

had fallen asleep, no more questions to ask.

The retinue of stars faded away.

A vacant silence reined.

The horizon looked so near,

and the dawn not far away.

Here we are,

looking beyond what the sky can show.

Sushama Karnik

july6 2022.

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4Françoise Dhulesia, György Fülöp and 2 others

July 7, 24. Sem Xtz.

 In the end, it's love and poetry that matter... ,

even though we can't see each other,

against all doubt...

In the end it doesn't matter who we are,

but what we feel deep in our soul...

If a ray of goodness has caressed your face

then it doesn't matter if we can't see each other anymore,

because we, in an almost incomprehensible and enigmatic way,

We have already seen each other... before we were born.

Sem Xtz