Sometimes, my thoughts translate into blurbs,. A part of my vocabulary, spills out,. Breaking out into a piece of prose or a an imaginative poetry….
Sometimes, my thoughts translate into action,. A part of me, performs some deeds,. Adding to my list of Karma, good or bad….
Sometimes, my thoughts translate into words,. A part of me, voices the thoughts into words,. Making it a part of my language…
Sometimes, I realise whatever I do,. Is totally in me, in my control, My writings, my actions, my language are mine, they are all just mine and I can choose them all…
My thoughts can take me on a long drive into the future,. Or they can rewind and play scenes from my past,. But I can choose the road to take or the film to watch, now and this moment, today..
A realisation dawned, and hopefully, will be fulfilled too 😊
Some inspiration, some imagination.. Urged me into trying my hand at digital painting and this was the result. Am quite happy with this one..hope you all like it too ❤️
Take a deep breath and get the power flow into them through the universal magic wands..
Then slowly place your left foot forward,
And then the right foot forward
Till you head to the kitchen.
As you reach the kitchen,
Relax your breath, and slowly try to become aware of yourself and the work that lies ahead of you…
Take another deep breath and become totally aware of your surroundings..
Now slowly open the refrigerator,
And feel the flow of cool air,
Inhale the cool air, feel the peace…
And fix your gaze on the veggie tray,
Stand erect and just stare at it, feel the silence and the peace….
Till you hear the alarm from the fridge beep,
To say the door is open too long..
This is where you take control, become aware, come into your senses,
Just commence your work, and get on with your work.
As you chug along the day, completing the rest of the cooking or the household chores, and feel you are done for the day…
The inner you will wake up again, with the toughest million dollar question..
Trying to figure out, Oh!! what do you cook for dinner????
Then you look to reach out to family for some help with your dilemma,
But you soon realize, you have to deal with this on your own.. It’s your karma,
You begin your inhalation and exhalation,
Open the fridge, and remain in a state of deep meditation,
Until the fridge alarm beeps…
To all my friends who deal with this, day in and day out.. You are not alone. There are millions all over the world, going through this dilemma..We are in it, together. So relax and meditate.
Every morning there’s a guest at my door, Waiting to enter my abode, ready to greet me as I begin my chores, Greetings of a good morning, Ready to serve my first cuppa with a zing !!
It keeps me on my toes, Amid my numerous other chores,. I can’t take my eyes off it, even for a while, For then, it chooses to rise up and flow out in style.
My companion in the kitchen as it appears, An early morning routine, for many years, As it comes to a boil and creates a ripple, Pour it into a cup of decoction for a coffee swirl and drizzle…
I dive deep within, Trying to find myself, But alas, I have gone missing..
I try to swim, with the tides and against the tides, In the depths of the minds ocean, Trying hard, to find an anchor, But alas, can’t find any..
Feeling frustrated and annoyed, I try to let them out, by shedding some emotional tears, But alas, the tears fail me..
Deep within, drowning, Looking for help, I try hard to find ‘me’, I spread my hand, For someone to hold me, guide me… But alas, A deep vacuum awaits, and greets me with open arms, And my pursuit to find ‘ME’, Continues…..
A sheet of paper And a pen, Is all, one needs, To tell A story, a tale, A poem or a fable.
It goes through numerous emotions, And plenty of iterations,
Crumpled, torn, thrown into the bin, It complains to none, Goes through the process, which has begun.
The paper surrenders To the pen holder, The maker, the creator.. Oblivious of what would emerge…
A creation unfolds, A tale is told, A pattern is designed, Words flow, designs glow…
A medium of expression, A mode of presentation, A canvas to an artists creation, A peek into the writers imagination…
If the paper had inhibitions And lacked the courage to surrender, We wouldn’t be able to read the bestsellers, We couldn’t have become ardent art lovers..
Let’s learn our lessons from a simple paper, With folded hands and trust, let’s surrender, To our maker, to our creator!!
DeepikasRamblings 