Weaves of Time: poems by Sangeeta Gupta
I
With you Time
dramatizes into diamonds
into pearly moments.
Nay, I do not ‘spend time’,
with you, I weave it
into a poem, a painting.
II
Time? – – time
Is an abstract notion
you can almost do
what you like with it
you can even recreate it
so flexible it
you can make time timeless – –
waste it too – –
it changes with your each mood
it can be sad,
be cheerful
not it your master
it is your obedient slave, you can
tame it.
a powerful tool – –
to you given as gift,
to be used as you wish.
you it is, who it perceives
you who decide its fate.
you who,
it has got to serve.
III
In this post-noon solitude
a playful sun
kisses your eyes
but softly so
and then instead
of weaving dreams
you weave silence
The inner fire is ready
as though to explode
like a playful butterfly
The rebel is reborn
as if looking for a new horizon
to grow in – – for
an awareness near total,
for not else
but reconnect
to re-bond
to be sheerly,
so you are
alive each moment
alive here and now
and for as long
as ever is.
IV
Love is so abstract
it is of no guaranteed definition
Each one defines it differently
You can feel
its there somewhere
between earth and space
may be all over
words fail
it can be understood
only in the completest of silence
indeed it is hid in the innermost core
of an elusive existence
Touch core
and it you will know.
V
In this
sunkissed afternoon
I realize
you are often
in my thoughts
the warmth of the
soft velvet sun
also has
the warmth
of your deep recall
VI
evening —
filled with your laughter – –
suddenly makes me realize
I am alive, that I am talking to myself
that life itself is
the key poem.
VII
In an utter silence
I hear you
hear the unsaid
hear that
which never touched
your lips
I hear feelings
which are hidden
secreted with utmost care
in the in-most
bole of your being
the pure, the raw truth
is not spoilt,
nor expressed
in words
which have lost
their meanings
in this, so utter a silence
sans communication, sans connection
yet see
how still I hear you
understand you completely.
VIII
It is now I can grasp
the silence – –
appreciate
the steep beauty,
the bliss of what is not
The sound and fury inside
vanishing
and the void is replate
with the gong of silence
each moment of this same supreme quiet
making you grounded
in the here and now – –
of no sound
only song.
IX
As artist
I wish to paint nought else
but pin-drop silence
wish to weave
the texture of that special sound
that is unheard
wish to share with you
this, an element out of ear-shot,
on the blank of a canvas
silence
so abstract
well, you may feel it
but not define it
for words just cannot express
what is rare
strange
that one can sense,
it, that is simply unsaid.
X
When is silence, when speechlessness
a poem’s kin?
I know it in my bones
its really the roll back
of the tide of times
we spent together,
times that seemed timeless
those so secretly stored
in the invisible most pore
of ones being
the joy of knowing without being told – –
bliss of understanding,
the satisfaction
of being understood without strain
minus speech
and once more one is aware,
of a Presence
during when the molten silver of silence
flows like a poem,
like a flowing pen.
Read also: Solo Exhibition of Paintings by Sangeeta Gupta
