come to me…
come ocean come to me
play with me drench me
drown me make love to me
here I am waiting for you since ages of my turmoil
awaiting your turmoil to claim mine
for you have the heart to touch mine and still stay dry
I know your eyes will not shed tears if you embrace me
here I am waiting for you from my first day
from the day I came to be
since the day I am here
since the day I was detached from oceans of umbilical fluid
this thirsty soul is searching shores that you behold
since the day I learned to walk
from the day I spoke my first words
since that day I learned to love
come ocean come to me
come and hold my hand once
squeeze me embrace me
come and sweep me off my feet
planted in your porous sand
let me be washed as anew
as if it was never afore
come and soak me in your salts
entangle me in your weeds
come and bleed me till I drop!
Come ocean come to me…
‘…since the day I was detached from oceans of umbilical fluid this thirsty soul is searching shores that you behold…’very ironic indeed that detached from one got us into the quagmire of the real realm, into the ocean of turmoil… from where any severing would lead us beyond the twilight zone…much beyond the matter and material being….
…Dear Pritts you have aptly brought about the helplessness in face of the pressures of tug of war that get upon the nerves whenever we attempt to comprehend the stress and strain we always find ourselves into…not that we are maladjusted…but because we wish to have our own answer to many a unresolved and unanswered aspects of our living…
…and this is also being a romanticist that one tries to discover metaphor for the inner strife in the turbulence that the evolved consciousness of the poet can find in the otherwise disassociated world outside ‘…here I am waiting for you since ages of my turmoil, awaiting your turmoil to claim mine…’
…and my oft repeated epitaph ‘Amazing’ in getting us newer ways to come to terms with the turmoil…come ocean come to me play with me drench me…
very beautiful ma’am
thanks is not enough Prateek.. for your wonderful review.. it has opened new vistas of understanding to my writing..
…you need not mention that Dearie …as ever that is my pleasure and more… reading you and knowing you 🙂
as usual one more praiseworthy exquisite gemstone from my friend….great compilation….
@prateek….you too deserve equal appreciation for your razor-edged observations….keep it up….
…thnx Mini for being there with your undaunted reading and your consistently encouraging words… 🙂
lovely… invite !!!!!
The great waves thundered and throbbed and sighed,
The great green waves of the Indian sea!
Your face was white as the foam is white,
Your hair was curled as the waves are curled,
I would we had steamed and reached that night
The sea’s last edge, the end of the world.
The wind blew in through the open port,
So freshly joyous and salt and free,
Your hair it lifted, your lips it sought,
And then swept back to the open sea.
The engines throbbed with their constant beat;
Your heart was nearer, and all I heard;
Your lips were salt, but I found them sweet,
While, acquiescent, you spoke no word.
So straight you lay in your narrow berth,
Rocked by the waves; and you seemed to be
Essence of all that is sweet on earth,
Of all that is sad and strange at sea.
And you were white as the foam is white,
Your hair was curled as the waves are curled.
Ah! had we but sailed and reached that night,
The sea’s last edge, the end of the world!
sad and strange sea roars with all its might
hearts that are close listen to their own heartbeats, all that is sweet on earth turns white, pure, sublime, divine is this life!