What meets the eye,
And escapes the vision,
What evades the vision,
And catches the eye,
Are all but versions of this reality,
One blurred in memory,
Another faded in cognition.
A labyrinth of notions,
An array of perceptions,
Creating a chimera,
In the minds of the observer,
And he keeps deciphering,
Pondering and contemplating,
Trying to clear this illusion,
Unravelling the layers,
Removing the dust,
Cleaning the stains,
Of these blurred realities.
reality : philosophy : life
I feel rust orange tonight.
Stagnant thoughts of the past,
Make me feel scratchy and rusty,
The mobile emotions tonight,
Make me feel vibrant and zesty.
As my surface withers away,
Removing layers of pinching toxicity,
It reveals beneath itself,
Another layer of soothing positivity.
This breaking apart is true freedom,
From the shackles of restricted life,
As I dismantle part by part,
I relish my disintegration,
Mingling gleefully with willingness,
In the source of my creation,
To be born again in time,
In another form and name.
Another identity that will chain,
My life for sometime,
In a complex quagmire of physicality,
But everytime I’ll reach this threshold,
Of leaving the dimensions of perception,
And entering a terrain unknown,
The one beyond living comprehension,
And I’ll always feel rust orange,
The way I feel tonight.
rust : orange : life
Have you ever observed how things have layers to them. It is just a matter of range, and scale. What’s not evident doesn’t imply it doesn’t exist.Another dream of a beautiful evening sky, a palette of blues and greens, with undertones of greys and blacks. As I saw this, I felt an urge to go beyond this layer, and see what’s beneath. There is something enticing about the hidden. Tried sharing the same through a poem.
The Lines
This beautiful sky above,
With shades of blue-
A stolen hue from the peacock’s feathers,
A grabbed tone from the nordic seas,
And a snatched tint from the crystals of Ceylon.
The greens look subdued,
But still asserting their presence,
With a mix of mountain jungles and the muddy water stains.
The greys and blacks,
Intrigue me a bit,
The manner in which,
They cast a spell of darkness,
Astounds my knowing,
And I become a seeker,
To move towards the unknown,
With the light of the known.
For the knower is always,
In his incompleteness,
Seeking beyond.
As I removed this layer,
I saw a path,
Grey and black,
Revealing the possibilities that exist,
Always, in different forms and layers,
The ones we ignore or overlook,
And miss the bewitching abundance,
This existence offers every moment.
LAYERED: EXISTENCE: LIFE
Tulip Brook 