A POETIC EXCHANGE

A question was raised :

Prehistoric, fossilized
Under layers of unearthed civilization

There lies in seclusion
A monolith of
Dreams and Disaster
Waiting to rise above
The ashes
Like the Phoenix
Will you be there to witness
The upsurge?
The volcanic eruption of
Inflamed thoughts and
Turbulent emotions
Which refuse to remain
Confounded, dormant
Under age-old
Taboos, stigmas and

Conventions
Will you be there to
Give a hand
In silent agreement
Of what was
And what could not be
Therefore what is
And what will become of
What remains unexplored
Will you be there?

The answer :

FOR YOU............
This monolith of dreams
This relic of disaster,
Will prove to be the visionary
And will create a castle faster.
A castle that shall house
The echoes of the heart
The voices of the soul
And eruptions of the thought.
When like a Phoenix you rise
I shall hail your soar
And witness your voyage
With delight galore................

Obviously, the retort excelled the query

EUPHORIA

A soft new bud is blushing to bloom. I hope she blossoms with all the colours of the rainbow. When the sun shines on her soft petals, a velvety sheen may spread around so that my garden takes on a new palate of hues and shimmer. When she is in full bloom, her fragrance may fill the air, making the birds itch to chirp more cheerfully and the bees hum more beautifully. I shall then softly tread in lest I disturb the arrangements so carefully put in place in all its vigour, beauty and bounty. I shall prayerfully listen to what she has to tell me. The secrets of life and love. Perhaps success too. I shall listen to her carefully so that she wants to tell me more. I shall bask in her glory and try experience eternal bliss through her poignant lores. Oh! there is so much ahead and so much more. This is just a beginning of a new found friendship!!!!!!

PARADOX

Those that once brought in immeasurable pain and shame

Are this day the cause of immense rejoice and fame

DISTANT DREAM

The moon is breathing down my neck
A slender piece of moon
Like a half eaten slice of water melon
White, snowy, sliver of icicle
Slides down the cheek of the sky
Closer to me, so that
I can lick it drop by drop
With my tongue of flame
Till I burn it down to ashes
And make her mine
Completely
So that there is no disc
Of silver
Tickling me from atop
And breathing down my neck
So says the Sun of the North Pole