Skip to main content

The color of blood

Far away where the clouds scatter
into a biblical array of potent symbols,
Is my dream of finding truth.

The hills I climb, certainly in doubt,
Are fathomless, yet grants me with joy,
Each step I make, the doubts crumble.

To perform no rites of fortune,
But to ensure my message remains clear,
I shall fly higher with each flap.

And when I reach the very top,
I would perform the final miracle,
Of writing my name in blood!

Comments

  1. Sumana Roy26 February 2014 at 07:15

    It's wonderful to find so much grit in the young generation....so ready to embrace the uphill, winding path....

    ReplyDelete
  2. Mark2 March 2014 at 02:33

    Those biblical symbols of which you write are not always easy to interpret!

    Rain on the Rooftop

    ReplyDelete
  3. Natašek2 March 2014 at 03:32

    very clever, and the ending gives me pause...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Susan2 March 2014 at 05:22

    Who is it longs to write name in blood in the sky? I know it is not a pilot, as there are no pilots in the bible. I think it is Jesus or one like him, one not longing but pre-calling his destiny. As if we are all born children of God.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Brian Miller2 March 2014 at 05:24

    i think we are all looking for our truth in some way
    and once found we put our name in blood on it
    by the way we live by it...

    ReplyDelete
  6. brudberg2 March 2014 at 07:21

    Somehow writing the name in blood is such a stark contrast to the lyrical poem so something is created that make me reread the whole poem.. and it has changed really changed - clever

    ReplyDelete
  7. Grace2 March 2014 at 07:24

    The journey to find the truth is more meaningful for me ~ I specially like the third stanza, doubts crumble but the message remains clear ~

    ReplyDelete
  8. Sherry Blue Sky2 March 2014 at 08:48

    The dream of finding truth, the "I shall fly higher with each flap", are evocative of the upward climb through life - the ending gave me pause, too. It definitely has impact.

    ReplyDelete
  9. M.Z2 March 2014 at 10:44

    Finding the truth, we all long for that...a nice read! :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. Mary2 March 2014 at 15:53

    Whew, this is impressive and intense! We all have somehow to find our way!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Preeti S.2 March 2014 at 23:51

    The energy and confidence in your words is amazing. Well penned. :)

    ReplyDelete
  12. Unknown6 March 2014 at 03:31

    Awesome, and to gain such confidence and inspiration with each step is simply heartwarming. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Nataraja | The Lord of Dance

Art : Nataraja by Satheesh Kanna All the reverberations of the world nestled In a tiny speck that glowed bright, Like beads in a necklace, It united with The mighty hands of a violent Lord. The speck, moved along like a Cobra, It wrestled to be released, A space Overpowering, yet calm waited For the Cobra to taste his infinity. The Lord held the flames of wrath on his left hand, He clutched onto it with a rage unmatched, With it all powers shall crumble down, With it all creations shall see annihilation. Umbraged, liberated and fearsome, The speck escaped his hands, Fire Spread all around the Lords' head, For once The speck was here, next it was there. It encircled the Lord in a heavenly tune, The frenzy uplifted the Lord, His hands moved to push the flame, Onto the circling speck. In a flash of ambrosial light and sound, The speck exploded and whizzed all around, The Lord went onto a fury of power, He felt his waist c...
25 comments
Read more

Loops of Love

Abstract : The Color Red We are seeds of the same flower, Carried by wind to poles apart, Time brings your fragrance, The spores bring your love! We are tunes of an unwritten song, Playing endlessly on and on, With the memory of each other to Keep us by, and no words to disturb Our plights. We are the dreams of a child, His agonizing fears, his deep love, His beautiful garden, his solitary cradle, His toys, and his oedipus wraths. We are memories waiting to be made, Memories of guilt, memories of crime, Memories of sorrow, memories of love, Memories that nostalgia ignites! We are half drunk cups of coffee, Cold yet waiting to be consumed, Useless and beyond all hopes, We usually get flushed out. We are a poet's funereal thoughts, Which he could never pen down, Yet in his dying cells, we live on Undisturbed! We are souls that meet after death, Forced to live apart when alive. We meet after the pains and tears ...
22 comments
Read more

The Search For Beauty | Dedicated to All Mothers on this Mother's Day

Painting : Quench by Katie.M.Berggren O, beautiful world, What grace and love do you keep? I walked along your coast, To find a shore of charm,   But came back with nothing at all. Abashed, destroyed and polluted, The world belongs in disarray, No song is sweet, No flowers are bright, No beings provide delight. Amidst my falling hopes, I stumbled upon a moving view, A snuggled baby in a mother's arms, And two bright eyes providing shade, Solace and eternal love. In those arms rests the comfort of all, In those eyes remains brightness paramount, In those beats, hidden, is love beyond, In her heart reside the beauty I searched for!
21 comments
Read more