Why?

It's the one question that can topple the monolith of pretenses. Forget every axiom, every convention, everything "normal", look yourself in the eye and ask yourself this. Dig deep into the depths of your soul... Cleave through the undergrowth of conditioning... Hack those dead stumps... clear the field... because you are about to sow the seeds of your essence.

Every answer to the question "Why?" is a seed sown. Every confirmation of that answer from your interaction with the world around is fertilizer. Every action taken on the basis of that idea is water.

Some answers will not be very appealing... some will threaten to tear you apart with grief or anger... some might deflate that image you have of yourself... What matters is that you know it is the truth. What matters is that you aren't fueling your own facade by sowing dead seeds.

The only reason to do this is to run your fingers through that golden harvest even if it is just once before winter sets in.

My little one

Stumble, my little one,
fall and learn to rise again.

Smile, my little one,
for yourself and not the world around.

Learn, my little one,
that's the one treasure you always keep.

Rejoice, my little one,
every moment is a reason enough.

Fight, my little one,
you win or lose but don't give up.

Love, my little one,
start with yourself and then move on.

Remember, my little one,
moments past are a sanctuary of lessons.

Cherish, my little one,
all the dew drops that fall into your hands.

Listen, my little one,
the world around is singing to you.

Think, my little one,
for yourself without another's crutch

Fly, my little one,
with truth and strength into the light.

Stop!

My body says stop... my spirit cries... NEVER!

We set our own limits. We run our own races. We fight our own battles. We bear the full weight of that sword... and when we are done running and fighting, we can look back and smile... smile at the passion, the glory, the sensations, the memories, the connections and then look into our hearts and smile at a life well lived.

I want to smile at death just as I smiled at life not because I believe in an afterlife but because I have been alive and squeezed every drop of life out of this journey. I have lived, loved, shared, grown, fallen, risen, hurt, been hurt, experienced, learned, feared, fought and stand this day facing my own soul, naked and proud, ready to put a full stop to a poem well written... But, not just yet!

If

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

- Rudyard Kipling

Dewdrop

Wake up to the sun's embrace
and nature in eternal grace.

A soul immersed in solitude
knows not the rules of mindless feud.

My soul is such amidst a crowd
that dwells in lives both crass and loud.

I look instead into the light
that just washed out the dead of night.

and behold the miracle of a sun on earth
glistening with radiance that knows no dearth.

I smile upon my precious dewdrop
as it twinkles of its own accord.

Romance

What does this word do to you?

Do you think of love, bollywood and glitz?

or of a world... flushed with color and life, a world where the sky is a deep blue, interrupted only by the ragged gray mountains beckoning to your spirit, you look down to see a lush green welcoming you into its soft and endless bosom. The trees around are flowering and strong... You look down at your feet... just as strong, your arms... craving for action... you feel the breeze brushing against your naked brow, teasing your hair... the grass pushing through your toes and you realize that this is the moment you have been created for, this moment of ecstasy... just before flight... like a fountain that breaks through the rocks... like a child who learns to stand... like a moment of life multiplied a hundred times packed into a single instant.

Your pulse races as your feet lift off and you fly..... fly towards that endless horizon... a horizon blurred my seamless stretched of peaks... a horizon crying out with promise... the cries echoing in every corner of your soul... cries of delight, cries of victory, cries of passion...

Romance is wonderful!

A large part of the world would view it as baseless and fanciful. My question to them is this... Is the condition of the human spirit not a base? Isn't creation of a parallel realm of life a simple manifestation of the colors of your own soul? Why treat reality as a purely normative phenomenon?

The gift of expression is irreplaceable! Most importantly to understand yourself.