A Bouquet Of Words

Words are like flowers.

Each one gives its own fragrance,

And imparts its own beauty.

In their depth 

They can be like an ocean 

Or shallow like dry beach sand.

In their intensity 

They could be the color of red

Or the color of white in their purity.

Or contain the rainbow of colors

To invoke our utmost sensual

Pleasure and admiration.

A good linguist knows 

How to tie the words of different 

Color, depth and fragrances

Into a vivid bouquet of language.

One can just admire the bouquet 

Or one can look at each flower 

To know it’s own truth of existence.

To know the grace and fragrance 

It carries to enhance the beauty

And charm of the bouquet.

Savita Tyagi

11. 24. 2020

Note:

One of my friend in our Upanishad study group sent me a quote from George Carlin. It reminded me the verses of Kena Upanishad. Later these ancient and modern quotes below about language became my inspiration for this poem.

‘There sight travels not, nor speech nor the mind.

We know it not nor can distinguish how one should teach it’.

 Kena Upanishad- Shlok 3

That which is unexpressed by the word,

That by which the word is expressed,

Know that to be the Brahman

And not this which men follow after. 

Kena Upanishad- Shlok 4

‘By and large language is a tool for concealing the truth’.

George Carlin

 

Happy Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving, much of the world including US is carrying a bag of emotions more intense than any other years in my memory. So many families are overloaded with sadness and grief. 

At times like these we come together as a whole with compassion and empathy for all. 

At times like these we realize that no emotion is greater than the emotion of love and gratitude. 

No matter what life flings upon us, it still leaves so much for us to be thankful, to be happy, to be cheerful and to be hopeful for the future. 

With these thoughts of love and gratitude, while keeping a lid upon our collective sadness brought upon us due to unusual Covid circumstances, I wish all my readers and all my family and friends a very happy Thanksgiving. 

November 26. 2020

Restless

“Thy peace, O Lord, a boon within to keep 

Amid the roar and ruin of wild Time

For the magnificent soul of man on earth. 

Thy calm, O Lord, that bears thy hands of joy.

Limitless like ocean round a lonely isle”. ( Sri Aurobindo - Savitri )

Restless

Peace! where have you vanished?

What chased you away from the mind?

Summer is about to end its course

Falling acorns break the midday silence

Autumn breeze tosses brown leaves into the air 

Scattered on ground wrinkled and curled.

Little squirrels chase each other down from a tree

The one on the lawn chair nibbles on an acorn - carefree

Her cautious eyes looking straight into my eyes

She senses a familiarity in my figure slight

Careful but not fearful is her demeanor.

A monarch came to rest upon a rose bush

Wilted and scorched from Summer's heat

A patch of white cloud floats in the blue sky

Beneath it, a morning dove glides high.

Nature is restive and calm for a downturn

Though restless is mind for no reason

O! Peace! Where have you gone to hide!

Come back and reign this tumultuous tide.

writer’s note: One thing Bhagavad Geeta talks about is Param Shanti ( peace of highest kind ). It is a boon reflected in the above quote of Sri Aurobindo. However in our life often there are moments when even a little peace becomes elusive. My poem above reflects on one such moment of uneasiness. It was written some time back but never posted on the blog. On February 21st our Sri Aurobindo Bhagavad Geeta study group celebrated Mother’s birthday. While reading their spiritual writings above quote was recited and it reminded me of my humble forgotten poem expressing the other side of the coin. Today I post it as a tribute to that great soul whose writings have brought so much peace.    

Morning Hour Meditation

In the hours of early morning

When darkness still prevails

I stay cozily in my bed feeling 

The warmth of an old comforter.

Soon the passionate conversation 

With self start to take over.

The bittersweet memories create a 

High-intensity passionate drama.

The active nerves pressuring upon

Forehead seems ready to burst out.

Oh! How hard I try to stop the chattering

Just a little more peaceful rest I need.

Just a little bit of quiet time to meditate!

If I am lucky a mysterious and enticing 

State takes over my waking consciousness 

A part of me roams around the cosmos 

In a world without words, not even it’s silence 

I am aware of......

The spell is broken in a jiffy

Can’t pinpoint the timespan 

But a bit of light streams through the blinds

And the songbird welcomes me 

To the comforts of the sound world,

To the sensation of being alive!

11. 22. 2020

 

A Tribute To Selma

Today America commemorates  

The historic 50th anniversary of Selma,

A peaceful march for voting rights

Turned bloody with police brutality.

 

An emotion of gratitude and respect

Arises in my heart for all those, 

Who rise with courage against injustice, 

Paving and guiding the way for fairness,

Marching, struggling, and uniting us all

In an innate, common bond for the 

Triumph of the shared human spirit.

Whether it is Selma for voting rights, 

Jalianwalla Bag for national freedom,

Or Sharpeville rising against apartheid laws,

We owe our freedom and liberty

To those fearless souls, who without

Any stick or gun, shield or sword

Stood with determination in their hearts

To bridge the gap between 

Freedom and slavery by 

The sheer strength of their will and

The righteousness of their thoughts.

The power of their soul embedded

In their character, so brave and willing 

To lay down their lives to inspire others,

To rise against injustice and cruel humiliation

Of fellow human beings all around the world.

The face of evil hidden in each and every place 

Crushed each and every time again and again 

By their most humble yet courageous efforts. 

Each of us owes our respect and gratitude

To those who died so we could live, 

Who suffered so we could be relieved of suffering,

Whose vision for us was to have

What they were deprived off,

Who fought so we could taste the fruit

Of liberty so forbidden to them.

Let those, who sacrificed be never forgotten,

Never be away from our thoughts.

Let their vision of the future inspire us all

Let the light of freedom shine upon us all.

 Note: This morning when we watched on the news Channel clips of Selma's 50th anniversary I and my husband talked about how we had come to this country just a few years later. Over time we have created a bond here with history. At the same time, we remember the struggle of our own country that happened not too far back. All my thoughts of gratitude came together inspiring me to write this tribute. 

Savita Tyagi

3.7. 2015