My Happiness
Thanks giving is not a duty
It is pleasure and beauty
It is happiness of the human heart
Radiant with warmth
An aura of joy mysterious
Fabulous and precious, the secret time of living, bathed in love.
I once limped my tightlipped pain
But till I learnt to love and rejoice
And revel amidst lack ,
Plenitude prevaricated.
I have two empty hands
And a full heart
With which I thank
Magnificent Bliss
That Is,
All there ever was
can be
and simply is.
My perfect balance
Is best maintained
Precariously
To teach me the value
of all states.
There is reason and sanity
In liquid
Tears
Would you cry your stone heart to crystal chips
Or coagulate your sorrows viscosity?
Or would you vanish them off into thin air like a pristine magician painting smoke upon mirrors?
Illusions are as real as you are.
Illusionist, I bow to you
Who's bent my soul
Into wily pretzels that refuse breakage at all costs...
And today
my thanksgiving
Is lighter than the pellucid
Snowflake's brilliance
That melts in meetings essence.
Should you stamp your icy foot upon it, it will harden its will
And on a sunlit day
Melt again.
My surrogate tears upon your windowsill.
All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014
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