Two Roads

Two roads running along side each other .                                 The try to meet but don’t bother . The seem to meet and then depart .                              Running along side each other forever .                                Though to the outside world they seem all shiny and clever.          The rough patches,the crumbling blocks and fine cracks .             All seem smooth .                        but only from a distance and there is some old sooth.            The roads just travel daily .        As if lying there by habit they have nothing to do.                 Stuck to the habit of running along with each other like a glue  

Strength

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.” —Viktor Frankl.                                      The stong creeper.                                                            The creeper chose to grow on the wall .                     Come rain sun or fall.                                                        On the old Castle wall it stood tall.                                    It blossomed and had a ball.                                    Holding on strong when we thought it was frail.           Here on the wall it had found its holy grail                         ( inspired by seeing a frail creeper grew strong on an old Castle wall in Baden) 

Ganga series

It’s in moments of solitude and reflection that you can actually make sense of the busyness of life and find some patterns in it ( if at all ).                                                    The Ganga                                                                             is it a river or an experience.                                                   A feeling or concrete reality.                                              The river flows daily since ages.                                     Yet leaves thoughts and reflections at all stages .                                                                  To ponder over even when the water has actually flown                                                               And the seeds of a new reality are sown 

Grounded

                                                     The seasons change .                And what a range .                        The trees with different hues . Sometimes a sunny day and some days all gloom.                                The flowers wilt and bloom.         The fields blossom and at times shrink .                                            We go out in a weather so dry , at times wet .                                    And at times on the brink .

It’s  only the ground the rawness of the Mother Earth .                         That is constant doesn’t change .                            Grounded since ages-since it’s birth !! 

Ganga series

The changing hues of the sky.                                                        Just like the changing views of reality.                                         The river Ganga flows deep and calm.                                           The view to all senses is a soothing balm                                            Well knowing where she has to go.                                                  And come rain or shine she is in the flow                                                              With the greenery around whole place is lit  in the sunset glow 

Ganga series

The Ganga is different to different folks.                          For some a spirit.                      The life force.                              For some livelihood.                         For some source of reflection.                                   For some just a flow                        It’s a multi faceted gem.           Flowing since eternity into eternity                                                                                                                                                  

Like..

Like ashes in the wind.                Like a flickering lamp in a storm                                                   Like a firefly                             Juggling between peace and strife.                                 Transient Life                          The journey of the permanent soul.                                               To the after life                                     With what was the mind body soul rife                                          Sum of the parts of the past                                                    It could be a whimper or a blast                                         That is the equation of life.      With all passion and zeal.          To make it a wholesome deal