Snowdrop

Withered petals of the autumn beauties
cascade to the ground
in a flurry of forgotten shades
Trees stand bare, only as a few pieces
of wood, coated with the shining powder
of a wintry paradise
that mirrors the weak sunshine
and shimmers faintly

And in this land of endless crystals,
boasting of cold, unfeeling elegance
devoid of the colors of warmth
exist a few strands of green,
contributing viridescence to a frosty scene,
topped with white, which melts in the snow,
difficult to discern, yet pleasurable once perceived
They battle the biting chill of the winter air,
blooming blithely, effortlessly,
their bells signaling the approach of dawn,
awakening nature from its slumber

Milky white against the darkness of dusk,
pale and enchanting against the light of the day,
resilient and unyielding,
yet an emblem of delicate allure,
light and fragrant,
whose scent never ceases to reach
the other creatures summoned by nature
Modest and demure,
mildly mocking, its petals open
in a flawless contrast of forest and frost

Taking the stage of the bliss of winter,
its counterparts having succumbed to the glacial ambience
stands the snowdrop,
conjured by an angel, having emerged from a snowflake,
as a symbol of hope during bleak times,
as evidence that winter thaws into spring,
that snow fades to scurrying life,
that sadness paves the path to joy

Tapestry

I'd create a tapestry of the morning shine
that envelops the cloth of the waking forest
which boasts shards of chartreuse and tendrils of lime-
soft colors against the shadows of the ground
housing stirring creatures, roused by the solar gleam
that pours from the fabric of the rose pink sky
Golden threads would arise from the hidden stars
whose gentle glow weakens as the temperature grows
The clouds would smile, with their reflected light
bestowing the skyline with the coloration of white
which would highlight the proud green of each rustling tree,
creating the musical scene of a melody

I'd create a tapestry of the ocean waves
and weave the cerulean of the lapping waters
that sparkle in the sunlight that lights up the sky
into which sprays of saline froth would fly
The sun would cross the horizon, its radiance weak,
the ocean dampening its fiery light,
extinguishing its blaze, letting puddles of amber
seep into the churning waters that meet the darkening sky
that extend indefinitely beyond, invisible to humanity,
yet visible on my tapestry of the ocean waves
that accentuate the shades of the blue sea,
whose varying colors join in harmony

I'd create a tapestry of the celestial hues
which rain down from the heavens as the moon grows
into an orb of luster from a luminous pearl
that transforms the darkness of the night sky
into the beauty of the shades of midnight blue
The stars would align in a shower of light
whose innocence cascades from their delicate glow
and aligns with the dreams of the earthlings who sleep,
whose enemy is the golden rays
of the sun, which represents the celestial foe
of my tapestry of the moon-bathed tints,
with a sky sprinkled by the consonance of tones of blue

The Roseate Glow

The countryside beckoned invitingly
with verdant arms
The sun glowed enticingly,
drawing her away from the dullness of her room,
toward the golden sparkles it emitted
Laying stretched across the emerald blades of grass,
closing her eyes,
her hair whipping in the wind
she dared to dream

She was dressed in a gown of rosy pink,
whose edges danced about in the breeze
It shimmered in the light of the golden sky,
it reflected the red hues of the autumn leaves
Her silken hair trailed behind her,
in a long, flowing curtain
that mirrored the gusts of the bracing wind,
that pirouetted its own distinctive dance,
while her glowing eyes focused far in the distance...
they focused at nothing, as if in a trance
Blood rushed to her face, emanating a roseate gleam
of exhilaration, as she felt herself rising up
leaving behind the emerald blades of grass,
joining the clouds that hung so low,
that were bathed in the sun's golden glow,
joining the tapestry of the pale sky,
whose squalls whispered alluringly
Bidding farewell to the tedium of the ground,
entering the enchantment of the undulating heavens,
approaching the distant light
that was emitted by the golden orb that burned so far
Her gown sweeping behind her,
its encrusted jewels echoing the glare of the clouds
that hung high and proud,
its soft substance giving her wings
subject to the power of the winds it conjured,
she left the earth,
and entered the skies

She opened her eyes, happy, peaceful,
her hands running over the emerald blades of grass
that glittered in the moonlight
of the bygone sun
and saw, in shock, the gown
of rosy pink,
whose edges danced in the midnight breeze,
reflecting the hues of the moon-kissed leaves

An Ersatz Epoch

Tube lights imitate the pallor of the sun's rays
at noon- white, violent, illuminating
Lamps replicate the lighting at dusk,
as the sun gradually dips
below the horizon-
a soft orange glow, mildly red,
a cozy, welcoming gleam
Night lights offer us as much comfort
as the twinkling stars do at night-
not enough to awaken us,
but enough to comfort us-
mild and unobtrusive
but reassuring all the same,
for they remind us that light and darkness can coexist
and still create beauty
Soft, carpeted floors-
akin to the soothing texture of grass
that we rarely have the pleasure to experience
when they tickle the soles of our feet
The marble floors of homes
remind us of the unforgiving solidity
of the earth's crust
Four walls confine us,
just as the walls of the earth,
the enclosure of our galaxy,
of the universe, do-
limiting us, keeping us unknowingly imprisoned,
for they seem to give us all that the earth can, and more-
serenity, security, a sense of home
We live in an artificial world,
a smaller version of the real one
And on the earth exists millions and millions
of artificial homes
while the real world- the original- the beginning
sinks down into neglect

Trail of the Sky

The sky is pale blue, with golden rays
streaking past, interspersed with pink clouds
that signify the approach of dawn-
which is a sight too early
to be appreciated by people ensnared
in the world of dreams

The pink dissipates, the sun rises higher,
growing light from golden yellow
Less ethereal, more earthly,
the clouds regain their original pallor
of white against azure
But a remnant of the moon, an almost intangible sliver
hovers in the sky
although hopelessly overshadowed
by the sun

The rays of the golden orb, once gentle
increase in their intensity,
as the sun resumes its stately, arched path
A blinding white, much too glaring
for people to bask in the reflected beauty
of the clouds, of the water
when they seem to echo the shades of the sky

The sun grows weaker, less dominant
as it withdraws its rays of dazzling light,
making way for the lesser celestial objects
miles and miles and miles away
Slashed with orange, darkened clouds,
the sky seems to smile as it boasts its beauty
From a line of soft gold of the horizon, to orange
to blue, to the endless violet
that extends up to the heavens

Against the backdrop of midnight blue,
the moon shines freely, free from the tyranny
of the sun
Sprinkled with stars that glow faintly,
the sky emanates an aura of serenity
that encourages us to close our eyes
and awaken to the harmony of dawn

Petrichor

She looked dismally at the darkened skies
that loomed over her
and poured rain in relentless sheets,
drowning everything around her
until she could see nothing but water,
as she peered out her misty window
and absorbed the dreary, unwelcoming scene
with unhappy eyes

The clouds hung lower, expelling the light,
suffocating her,
ensnaring her in the trap of darkness-
devoid of beauty or radiance,
until she could bear it no more
She curled up, as she waited for the rains to calm,
for the dissonant sounds of the crashing drops to appease,
for the wall of darkness to evaporate
so that she could breath freely again, in a world
unhindered by the chains of a vehement deluge

                                        *                                    *                                    *

Golden cascaded from the heavens
in a shower of sparkles
that carved their way across the sky,
reaching the eyes of the earthlings,
throwing light on the verdant trees,
on the broken branches, severed twigs
too weak to withstand nature's wrath
She stepped out of her home carefully, rather warily,
inhaled deeply
and beamed

It was lovely... disarmingly persuasive
as it lured her down the steps, to the grass,
beckoning her forward, to bask
in one the gifts that is bestowed upon the earth
after a downpour that follows unbearable heat
Breathing in the scent of the bygone rain,
of the indefinable, strangely abstract
fragrance that lingered around her,
clinging to her like an ethereal spirit
as she walked under the canopy of trees
Looking up at the sky,
the benign, innocent, cerulean sky,
she dallied about, careful not to miss
the magical scent emanating from the ground,
from the grass, from the trees-
the petrichor

Artificiality

Published in Canvas Literary Journal


A made-up countenance, blooming with the hues
of artificiality, of vivid colors
that appeared unnaturally bright,
accentuating features, brightening shades
that never existed

She erected boundaries around her mind,
to shield herself from the dangers
of criticism, of the perils
that accompany an endless list,
a growing list of insecurities

Pale, sparkling cheekbones,
beautifully defined eyes and lashes,
A ruby red pair of lips,
wielding an insincere smile-
her defenses against the arrows
that pierce her confidence, her will, and her faith
in humanity
She effortlessly brandished-
a shallow laugh, feigned words of praise,
hollow demonstrations of friendship
thereby symbolizing the insincerity
of what surrounded her

A splash of cold water- fresh and invigorating...
she felt her face revert to its natural color
A sparkling stream cut down her face
as she rid herself of the pretensions she waved
every hour of the day,
every day of the year,
every year of her life

She looked at herself for the first time-
at a natural blue, rather than glowing sapphire,
at a pale pink, rather than violent magenta
at a soft peach, rather than vivid orange
She saw herself for what she was,
and the beauty that she possessed
that existed free of the shackles of artificiality

Truly satisfied for the first time,
she took a step back
and allowed herself a smile

Fury

Thunder struck, she rose from the clouds
a towering figure, incensed and proud
The winds moved at her command
deadly lightning struck with an order of her hand
Fire cascaded from the tapestry of the sky,
the gale blew with a recurring sigh
Waves clapped fiercely against the shore,
turmoil and chaos, the planet wore
Mountains crumbled to the cracking ground,
cries of the creatures were mercilessly drowned
by the mayhem, the havoc, all the uproar,
by the lashing, battering rain that poured
from the reddened sky, a horrid red-
with fire and tumult, the earth had wed
Her fingers were clenched, her eyes gleamed,
she willed her forces to raze and scream
Until, that is, she closed her eyes,
shielding her gaze from the crimson skies
so she was exposed to the calming dark-
a conflagration that subsided to a mere spark
A cold breeze blew, seeming to calm the fire,
water prevented the flames from rising higher
Her fury calmed, she took a breath,
of her misunderstood anger, that was the death
The dark skies cleared, light took its place,
nature renewed its dance of grace
Screams vanished, smiles appeared,
the golden sun was shining and revered