…Like sands in hourglasses…
—Poetry by Sushant Thapa, Biratnagar, Nepal
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
BLISSFUL TIME
The value of tear is known;
Thus, we have learnt to smile.
Keep spring in your sunshine,
Your cave of winter will have a throne of silk.
There is our voice in the beauty of spring.
I chanted the verses of selfhood
And several other reasons to admire humanity
Opened up before me.
Knowing the walks of life,
Days have grown like daffodils on the sidewalk.
Nights do not chase the imperfections themselves;
They do not scream, and shrill.
Not getting lost in the darkness
Is when you really find yourself.
There is reality in dreams
When they do not die.
Like spring, our future
Waits for the time to be blissful.
The value of tear is known;
Thus, we have learnt to smile.
Keep spring in your sunshine,
Your cave of winter will have a throne of silk.
There is our voice in the beauty of spring.
I chanted the verses of selfhood
And several other reasons to admire humanity
Opened up before me.
Knowing the walks of life,
Days have grown like daffodils on the sidewalk.
Nights do not chase the imperfections themselves;
They do not scream, and shrill.
Not getting lost in the darkness
Is when you really find yourself.
There is reality in dreams
When they do not die.
Like spring, our future
Waits for the time to be blissful.
SOME MEASURES
A measure of my patience
Ends like sands in hourglasses.
Time does not stop, even when the clocks retire,
A symbol I am searching
To carve your attire
In everlasting presence.
You skip a heartbeat in me
Yet I do not lose this track of breathing soul.
I have to endure like a mountain;
I have to drink the poison of immortality.
Life is like a floor covered with broken glass,
Happiness leaks like summer heat.
Above me is the roof of darkness
Sheltering me from the light.
If metaphors make a poem
I ask with whom shall I compare you.
Poetry is a luxury only to those
Who do not live divided by time.
My every second bears fragile flowering wishes.
Shall I build a watchtower with dreamy eyes?
A measure of my patience
Ends like sands in hourglasses.
Time does not stop, even when the clocks retire,
A symbol I am searching
To carve your attire
In everlasting presence.
You skip a heartbeat in me
Yet I do not lose this track of breathing soul.
I have to endure like a mountain;
I have to drink the poison of immortality.
Life is like a floor covered with broken glass,
Happiness leaks like summer heat.
Above me is the roof of darkness
Sheltering me from the light.
If metaphors make a poem
I ask with whom shall I compare you.
Poetry is a luxury only to those
Who do not live divided by time.
My every second bears fragile flowering wishes.
Shall I build a watchtower with dreamy eyes?
ARTFUL PRESENCE
To picture a photograph from memory,
How should I decipher my sermons?
To meet you in dreams,
Which seed should I plant in reality?
To describe my efforts,
Which task should I seek?
What is understood in the world
Is immortal, indeed.
To know you among others,
I have befriended my conscience.
I have been an ethical intuitive one.
When poems speak of prayers
Which healing deeds should I convey?
My regards to you
Have blown like an inked letter in the wind.
I can play the flute of ecstasy
When I am your mere proclaimer.
Would you be kind to allow my knockings
At the door of your artful presence.
The choir room is silent and
My musings can lead astray,
Yet, I do not lose the charm of
Abstract beauty of your artful presence.
Your absence is also a habit of art to me.
MANY MORE
Many more will be said
When the world shall not die.
Many more shall live
When the time shall beget.
Many more will be thought
When the perception
Becomes a planted seed.
Many more will be kindly loved
When deception does not happen.
Many more will be leveled
When differences do not admire.
Many more will be rhymed
When intentions match.
Many more will be written
When eyes that read do not sleep.
Many more will be philosophized
When ideas are well-known.
Many more will be befriended
When friends no more part ways.
Many more will be civilized
When the mother earth is not forgotten.
A LOVE EMBLEM
Let me hear your voice
So close to my heart
Let me learn your alphabets of love
And teach my wandering soul a lesson.
I know the calling of your voice and
The truth that imagines our togetherness.
We are two souls breathing
Under one sky.
You are my evening light
And I am your early dawn.
As simple as a flowing river
We flow as the time gets old.
Many trespassers stop to admire our scent
Of togetherness.
We are same under the one serene sky.
Even if the earth should rage
We would kiss the grounds
Of the high firmament together.
The humming bee steals
The patience of time from you
To make its honey and admire the flower.
The nectar of sweet love recalls
Your exchange of love emblems with me.
CUSTOMARY INCLINATION
Is it all that depends upon a tiny hill
Before rolling down the road to be free?
Like a free-falling waterfall
Patience puts itself under the
Scorching sun of test before it falls and flows.
Actions chime the rhyme of fortune,
Abilities chained by the garland
Of super-fine flowers
Bloom together.
A divine awakening is demanded
In the mortal world.
Clouds have allowed the sky to be blue
And we do not question
The authority of the welkin;
All above it is bright and
It glitters in the night.
Height and fall have become
Customary temptations;
The ground learning to adhere
Is the common measure.
At the end of the eternal hour
We fail to see how much effort is needed
As we only seek the apparent results beforehand.
WHAT LIVING IS
Forever, if the time can flow,
Let me ink a song to go
Reaching my destination.
I touch the happiness
Boiling over in the journey.
The steps have just begun.
All the goodwill has been exchanged.
My little steps, I make them rise,
They bring me close to my sky.
If time can get old
I will learn a new lesson from it.
Each day I appreciate my footsteps
And the concrete walk gets trodden-
Over flowers without thorns.
I lose not the walk of life
Life is a greater wheel of philosophy;
Only simple living can move it effortlessly.
This contradiction of simple living
With the greater philosophy of life is in fact
What living is.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Instead of worrying about what you cannot control, shift your energy to what you can create.
—Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart
__________________
Sushant Thapa is back with us in the Kitchen today, and glad we are to have him visiting, all the way from Nepal!
_________________
—Medusa
“The humming bee steals/The patience
of time from you/To make its honey
and admire the flower.”
For upcoming poetry events in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
