Have you ever observed the magic of a butterfly and how the flowers bloom with it’s touch? Let’s experience it through poetry.

The Lines

These soft lemony flowers, bright and fresh, 

This shaded green foliage, a beautiful mesh, 

Attracts this petite aviator of the low skies, 

To share tainted secrets and misconstrued lies, 

To reveal how humans oft distort reality, 

As an attribute of their mortal frailty. 

As I look in awe, 

At these cohorts exhibiting acts of sorcery, 

In a language beyond human glossary.

I wonder, 

Nature has its own way of expression, 

A language beyond human comprehension, 

Which leaves a spray of an illusionary impression,

On the minds clogged by filthy grains of aggression.

I ponder a little and realize, 

Nature calls us in ways innumerable, 

To unfold what’s hidden, in ways unimaginable. 

But we remain deaf to this song of existence, 

Which flows unhindered without any resistance, 

And we turn a blind eye to this divinity’s  dance, 

Missing this very golden chance, 

Of experiencing a zesty trance, 

And relishing this magnificent happenstance.

I smile in joy, 

At this resplendence of knowing, 

The consequence of sowing, 

The seeds of curiousity, 

Which burst into enormity, 

Erasing the darkness of ignorance, 

With it’s revelatory illuminance. 

The butterfly makes the flower, 

Bloom and shine like an earthy star, 

And the flower makes the butterfly glimmer, 

Like a sprinkled florid shimmer. 

Their proximity is a stay so brief,

But the emotions linger on a  belief

That a beautiful blend it is,

Like an everlasting bliss, 

Of an unconditional love, 

So profound and deep, 

Reminding one, 

That distance is left, 

With only feelings to keep, 

As a token of that conjunction,  

Where memories form the foundation, 

And faith, the pillars of affirmation, 

To make this residual life, a marvelous




Magic and Spirituality Series Poetry Podcast- Let’s Fly

Imagine having wings or angelic powers to fly high and reach the most hidden and deep parts of this limitless universe. What a magical journey it will be. But it is more than that, a spiritual one, that makes one realize this existence of yours is meant to merge with this greater existence. Let’s do this through poetry.

The Lines

Wish I had vibrant wings,


Beautiful soft feathers,

Like a charismatic fluffy bird,

Preparing itself with pride,

After a lengthy pruning session,

To begin a wonderful flight,

To the farthest terrains possible.

Or I can be a crisp winged butterfly,

Born out of a broken cocoon,

Of a caterpillar’s transformation,

A journey towards limitless freedom.

My heart desires,

To be a star-dusted glowing angel,

Resplendent and magical,

Carrying an aura divine.

The desire to make a flight,

To the sights far away,

From the vision of my eyes,

and soar higher and higher,

To the undeciphered darkness,

And make an unfathomable dream,

A fathomable reality.

This incomprehensible vastness,

Of the indigo hued sky,

And those bright twinkling stars,

Making awe-inspiring patterns,

In a myriad puzzling constellation,

Ushers inside me a light of hope,

To solve this labyrinthine,

And unravel the master’s design.

The gigantic milky way,

And the other extra-terrestrials,

Gush inside me a river of joy,

That desires to meet this ocean,

Of the creator’s spectacular phenomena.

And as I witness,

This universe in its entirety,

Flying unhindered,

Through the waves of astonishment,

And humming in a continuum,

Through the undercurrents of ecstasy,

A sense of equanimity enters,

Into my core,

And a blissful thought lingers,

In the depths of my mind,

As I traverse effortless,

These light-years too,

To reach my final terminus,

Where I merge like a silhouette,

And fade away like a mist,

Into this infinity forever.

My poetry podcast on Anchor and five other platforms. Listen and enjoy the soulful poetries taking you to ecstatic journeys’ unimaginable.

रोज़ गुज़रते हैं यहाँ से, भोर के ख़ुशनुमा ख़्वाब कई , दोपहर की उजली उजली सी ये उमंग, साँझ की अचल निराशा, और रजनी का गहरा चिंतन भी | हर उम्र यहाँ ठहरती है, अपने अपने हिसाब से, फलों की फेरी लगाता वो नौजवान, करता उम्मीद दो रोटी की, सुबह की बस का इंतज़ार करता, वो छोटा सा बच्चा, मिलने को उत्सुक अपने दोस्तों से, साइकिल पर कॉलेज जाते, दोस्त यार कई, बेफ़िक्र दुनिया की परेशानियों से, स्कूटर पर दफ़्तर जाते वो अंकल, देने एक सुरक्षित जीवन, अपने परिवार को, यूँही पैदल चलती वो गृहणी, हाथ में सब्ज़ी का थैला लिए, गृहस्ती की ज़िम्मेदारी निभाती हुई, लाठी संग हौले हौले चलती, दादा नाना की ये टोली, करने सैर और बात चीत | कोई यहाँ उम्मीद छोड़ जाता है, कोई थकान और शिकन, कोई यहाँ आने वाले वक़्त की ख्वाहिशें, कोई बीते हुए पलों की रंजिशे | कभी यहाँ जश्न होता है, कभी शोक और मौन भी, कभी यहाँ काफिले निकलते हैं, कभी सुनसान आहटें भी, कभी यहाँ खिलती हैं मुस्कान, कभी झड़ती मुरझाए साँसें भी, सब कुछ यहीं होता है, हर रोज़, हर पल, यूँही ये सड़क बन जाती है, एक अहम् हिस्सा, सबके जीवन का | — Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/tulipbrook/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/tulipbrook/support
  1. सड़क
  2. Diya aur baati
  3. अलादीन
  4. मीत
  5. कॉंच

Magic: Spirituality: Poetry