Curved, Convoluted, Confused

It’s okay to be curved, convoluted, and confused,
to have the wires of your life
twisted and turned
as if ready to dance upon each other.

Because look at the vessels
the body encloses,
look at them and you shall see
how they twist and turn.

Laid straight they could
travel twice around the globe,
but would they house a life?
it cannot be told,
but probably not.

Look how curved, convoluted
and confusing they look,
perhaps because of which
they make life possible,
pumping blood all over.

When the roads do not
go as straight as we would like them to
confounding our state of being,
they could too carry life within them.

So it’s okay to tilt a bit
for otherwise the world wouldn’t fit,
inside of you.

The Fall

The heavy sky
laden with dark clouds-
it’s weight unbearable,
yet refusing to fall
over the grounds as
droplets of tear.

When comes the next morning
the wind has blown,
but where do they go – really?
Don’t they return
till they fall over the grounds?

Elevator

It sometimes happens as it does,
you come running,
your clock ticking of lateness
as you see the elevator on the floor
ready to move up.

It’s where you are.
‘0’ reads it’s electronic meter,
you press the button to
let it stop – as if anything stops for anyone
including machines.
But alas! it leaves
it’s doors already sealed.

‘1’ reads it’s screen,
and you know you’ve missed it by seconds.

There’s a staircase
by the side,
gruesome is the idea of flights,
but well, it’s faster than
waiting for the machines to
take you by surprise.

Rock in a River

Do you sometimes feel
like a rock amidst the flowing waters
of a big river?

Each splash of water
you come across tells you a new story.
The river flows on it’s own
as you stand there, immobile
unable to chase the current
as it erodes a part of you.

The river has it’s own mind,
it goes on it’s own
as you become accustomed to its sound.

You can’t roll with it
neither can you run,
for it has a heart of it’s own,
and it meets so many stones.

But you await for the river
long gone to the ocean.
Each splash chips a piece of you,
perhaps it will flow into the ocean
but will you ever be able to find
all your pieces scattered across time?

Do you sometimes feel
like a rock amidst the flowing waters
unable to move,
only there to witness
the change that comes forth?