Now I become myself. It's taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"Hurry, you will be dead before--"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!
An explorer, an artist, an activist, a social entrepreneur, a poet and a writer looking for treasures beyond any measure. My favorite words are 'Love' ( which is the meaning of my name, as also my effort to be the meaning of my existence) and 'Serendipity' ( which keeps finding me around every nook and corner !). I like looking at moving clouds endlessly changing their shapes and shades, listening to chirping birds singing their songs, discovering new worlds in old book stores, taking photographs of the sky, the earth and everything in between. Love experimenting with random acts of creative kind(ness). Cherish reading and writing about the beauty and enigmas of nature, the human mind and myworldbeyondstars.