Should I?

Should I not?

Should I?
Should I not?
In between my life oscillates. 

Tomorrows

I am walking
Along the sands
No those footprints
Would  be washed off
By the waves of  time.
I would  have splintered
Into millions of fragments.

Blown out into a nonentity....
As you sink me into the currents
To sway with essence of the silvery sheets
Dancing to the rhythm of a neverending journey.

The bitterness, the resentment,

  can't be a burden then,

though it aches now,
For me to breathe.
 No more restraints
To be tied down to. 

No traces ....

Not even my

footprints ...

A parent's monologue

My children ... would soon outgrow my arms and my embrace
Wandering into plains
Awaiting their footprints.
They grow
So do the expression of disparities
Grow between us.

He would soon be
twenty and still more
As he walks,
slams doors between us
Arguments spilling out into an ugly scene
... hormones...

teens, they say.
They grow,

and so do our concerns,
Their shackles,
They break free.

And yet my heart is tied

To a moment.

How so tiny was he
Wrapped in white.
When the nurse
Brought him to my arms
And those teeny wee little fingers,
Closed tightly into a fist.
The warm kiss I breathed onto his forehead,
Afraid I might hurt him,

Still afraid he might hurt himself
And my arms
Won't be there to hold
Him anymore.
Let him
Learn as he falls
For am afraid
I won't
Last his lifetime
To hold him.

Arguments or no arguments.

Under the mask

There was always a happiness in not being seen,
In lying hidden among the unknown
To be masked in a crowd...
It took years of practice
To learn not to stand out...
To remain camouflaged
Like a chameleon
Not showing the odd vein out.
But then....one day
You would be shocked to find out
What lies under my skin
The colours of my thought....
The redness in my blood
Under this facade of a calm...
The dread of a storm...

An aside to the wanderer in the wilderness of my home

Is it strange that 
I go spirally down the gyre
of life....
Some times I wonder
When I open my windows
Do I close my doors
When I pull my curtains apart
Dont I stay in?
When i speak volumes about 
a flight , 
Where are my
brooms, my pans, 
And my pangs of unfinished jobs leading me to?
cleaning,scrubbing , cooking
ohhhhhhh!
The clean grey tiles of my home
Tell you a tale
of a suspended time
I live everyday,
If you can see it.

The doors of my home that forces me back
into the never ending bondage.
Call it life.....

And you managed to escape all that  through
What you called  revelation

The shape of pain

It remains,
Right there in your throat
A lump ..that seems to grow
gnawing into your
Existence,
Freezing my blood,
As it shackles my heart
With its chilled fingers...
Smothering me breathless...
Bury me down
Into the deepest hollows of the earth,
Maybe I'd get some air.
Maybe I'd learn to sleep
Maybe darkness will do the trick
Maybe ... maybe...no more creepy colours to smudge my nights dirty .

Time

Time stands like a stranger  ,

In a calendar,

With the dates arranged 

like the stiff collar of the shirt,

Giving me shivers,

With its stern undertones of a deadline.

 My eyes wander

beyond the frames,

For the count of time.

Only to find them
In the tales of yesterdays,
And in the expectations of a tomorrow.

Somewhere down the line,
They break  into moments,

Elongating into unending sagas,
Silencing the ticking soldier,

Parading around the future.

I do not know where I belong,
 l forget the borders of my existence,
Only to feel my breath 
Diffuse into the air,
Nowhere to be found!

Glimpses of a strange vision haunts me, 

No more of  yesterdays and tomorrows.

nothing remains but an eternal moment

freed from the bondage of time,
 merging  into the ocean of the universe.