By Isha Jahnavi
A Lace Lilac
The ceiling has cracked
Years of conjunction
have come to an end
Water seeps breaking the silence
The aura turned a lace lilac
The flower bloomed to the fullest
A few desires and lusts had to be restrained
The source knows
the true fulfillment of the soul
Better than the body that carries it
Rare occurrence of an epiphany
The showers and thunders over the canopy
Make sense of the turbulent stem
The veins have the power of the Hephaestus
gracefully embodying Saraswathi's wisdom
There is ease and poise in existence like Buddha
The roots are a strong intertwining
With mother Gaya
Though not all answers have been seeken
There are no more questions
Despite the existence of confusion
There are no more doubts
Experience my mate is the soul witness
Of the beauty of life unfolding
Over the horizon
Every wish looks fulfilled
All desires seem to be met
Few flowers were fateful enough
To be sown in top-soil
How can we question the ones,
Who had a better beginning?
Seasons of withstanding the pain in the rain
Subjected to the blazing sun overhead
Life didn’t seem like a home to the self
Patience seemed a betrayer of glee
But on the last dawn of winter
And the beginning of spring
The lilac bloomed with
A soothing breeze and blare
All the sunflowers gravitated
To the lilac, shining with the rarest
Color of a jewel.
There was no substitute for the vexation
Mere life cannot fathom the blueprint
Of the fruits to bear.
Mortals adored the lonely lilac
A part of their existence seemed to reconcile
With a memory that never made peace
Or sense in their critical brain
Hope is an alluring word
To every earthling, desperately longing
To convey to their mind
that it has not lost its sanity
The source that planted them on this planet
Is never searched for in pleasure
Until the last petal falls
The quench of an unknown thirst is never felt
The only thirst to have appreciated
Every petal and plight
By dint of Akashic records
The shade of lilac was the unique gem
Until the last petal fell
The lilac was a true embodiment
of hope un-hemmed
If only the joy in adversity
the conscience could comprehend
we wouldn’t wait until the last petal fell
to fill the lungs with the
aromatic aura of the Lilac…