OF ARTIST AND ARTISTRY
It needs practice, anyway,
Sweet tunes to string,
That audiences sway,
A melodious song to sing.
What does it take –
A mere canvas on the stand,
A lively painting to make,
A palette, and a brush in hand,
Mounted on his imagination,
A poet creates his own
Word-picture with his pen,
Delighting all and one.
Gripped by his inspiration,
See a sculptor of renown:
How he chisels out his imagination
On so inert a stone.
With body habituated to desired movements,
A dancer, to the accompaniment
Of other musical instruments
Regales onlookers displaying his talent.
Healing through Crying !!
Why numbing the pain n making it even worse
Cope up and move on with time since it can’t be reversed
Why keeping things in your heart.. Pour them out.. Just cry
Accept the fact- One who has taken birth is sure to die
There’s a verse in Geeta-
“Jaatsya hi dhruvo mrityuh dhruvam janma mritasya cha
Tasmataparihaaryer the na tvam shochitumarhasi”
It clearly signified birth and death are just two faces of the same coin
There is nothing in our hands So to regret or blame, there’s no besoin
Cry if u r overwhelmed, try your best to ask for help
Even when u know there’s no one but urself
People see merit in crying n through it healing
For beverages are meant to be bottled up not human feelings
‘Nothing lasts forever” trust me when I say
This too shall pass, tomorrow will be a new day
This isn’t poem but a piece of my heart
What’s gone is gone, Its time to restart!!!
Shiv Shakti Sunaina
When I am asleep, I traverse a different world.
I travel through a land,
Extraneous to my own mind.
a rare conundrum,
Solution to which is hard to find.
My mind tries to hustle, but my body gives up the graind.
I emulate my dreams with the real world.
They mame no sense.
Can’t tell anyone
As nobody would believe if they heard.
There is no place for lucid dreams in this Janus-faced world.