Author: Taruna

May the 4th, 5th, 6th be with you…


How is it that we’ve lost sight
Of knowing what we have,
This ultimate gift
The greatest blessing called life.

Yet, soon as we are reminded,
With pains and loses
At home and afar,
We acknowledge this truth.

That yes, we are indeed alive,
Yes, how fortunate we are.
Then why do we behave,
Behave so abominably?

We allow material possessions
Personal prestige,
Judgement and ridicule,
To feature throughout the day.

Has the truth of ‘living’
Dawned with you today?
Or is it merely a fleeting thought
Occurring on some days.

When the depth of yearning
To know the infinite,
And humility entwine,
A knowledge of old

Comes to be learnt.
That you are indeed,
An image
Of all that is clarity,
Understanding
And almighty.

Then unfolds
The gifts sublime
That only your ‘senses’
Privilege you to behold.

Feelings of gratitude
Surface to obliterate
The space occupied by sorrow.

Joy bubbles
Where misery once stood,
Compassion flourishes
Eating away the roots of greed and fear.

And love’s light surrounds
To vanquish the darkness.

So in May, learn knowledge
Of the life force within.
So you may sense
As only your humanity enables.

Loving the Child Within

In the dark,
Shivering and cold,
I remember you.

Laughed at, ridiculed
Ashamed.
Needing to disappear,
I remember you.

Searching for that look
Of approval.
Wanting that comforting
Hug.

Instead,
Feeling unseen
And left behind.

Now all grown up.
But I still remember you.

I remember you
Because I was you.

I saw you
And I see you now.
I held you
And I hold you still.

With a kindness,
A guidance,
A protection
Divine,

I have grown.
Grown to know
The great power of true love.

The kind that holds
The stars in place,
The sun at bay,
The moon for play.

Is this a fairytale
Or supreme astrophysics?
Either way
I must be loved.

How else
Could I be protected,
Be free to witness
Explore and come to know

The Might.
That surrounds
Nurtures and holds,
Both me and the stars.

April’s Resurrection

With the unexpected
Mandatory isolations,
Arrives a resurrection
Of lifestyles of old.

Families gather
Breakfast, lunch and dinner.
The elderly are watched over
With keenness and compassion.

The poor and homeless
Fed and sheltered.
Communities work
With united forces.

With efforts big and small
True mindfulness and consciousness
Regain strength and center stage.

Within the self
Something deep is touched,
Stirred and begs to rise
As another resurrection.

Stripped of the usual noise
Busy-ness and distractions,
There is an exposure
Of the decluttered self.

The self that knows consciousness
That feels the depth of gratitude
That recognizes the greatest love
Of the One who always cares.

With no concepts to cloud
And only a few and basic
Needs to be addressed,
The obvious is made clear.

The preciousness
Of the ultimate gift
Yet non-permanence
And fragility of life.

The question begged to be asked.
What is it that you resurrect?
Your goals and ambitions?
Your achievements and certificates?

Neither past nor future matter.
The unexpendable commodity
Is this moment now.
The frame of existence.

Resurrect your being
The qualities that enliven you
Not by what surrounds
But by what lays within.

Allow in this quiet time
Listening to the voice
Lost in the usual noise.
And resurrect what you know
You’ve always been.

Novel Warrior

Most all warriors through history
Have been armed,
Carrying weapons of the era
Swords, bayonets to machine guns.

Patrolling and confronting
Ready to destruct or be destructed,
With nerves of steel
Conditioned through training.

Today, the insipid enemy
With no face or form.
Is quiet to arrive
Slow to show its presence,

Allowing time to infiltrate
Spreading wide and far.
Infects and destructs
The unlikely to likely.

Warriors have been summoned,
They wear no camouflage
They rage no war
They have no weapons.

She/he is my brother, sister, mother,
Father, aunt or neighbor.
They bring to force
Their daily expertise.

From farmers to grocers
To store cashiers.
From EMT to nurses,
And doctors.

With an endless list
The warriors of the war
Novel, like the enemy,
Rise to the call.

Unprepared
And without combat gear
Or training,
And most of all

Being blindsided
And abandoned in the trenches.
They are truly
Novel.

As always
There are those behind the frontline
Manufacturing , packing
Delivering, fixing
Communicating, supporting.

But the unseen hero
Will be the ones to heed
When nothing else can be done;
The act

Of social distancing,
Isolating to quarantining.
For this is no one man show.
It is only in unison

That we can bind
Our resources
Of endurance,
Hope
Courage

And humanity.
To defeat and rise,
With the least of casualties
This novel virus, COVID 19.

Mates of the same soul…

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For some,

I am a representation

Of their enamor with another.

For some,
They see me but fear my thorns.
For others
I’m too dainty to touch or unreachable.
But you,
You find me though I hide.
You see
Not only my contours, hues and parts,
But my longing, luster and love.
With your lens and your gaze,
You cast away my shadows.
Make my surrounding disappear,
Give me center stage
Bringing me into existence,
And then make me immortal.
Hovering and circling
You embrace
Even dance me.
Moving from a steadfast stance
To glorious highs of the smoothest rhythms.
Finally, we find our place
Where the moment is captured,
With a knowing that the frame,
Shows how we are mates
Of the same soul.

Shelter In Home


Comes natural to the hermit
Enforced on the convicted.
A sort of imprisonment
Intended to safe guard.

And today,
The likes of me and you
With access to the essentials
Water, food and light.
But little preparation
With unheeded forewarning,
The mind is unconditioned
The body unable to relax.

As sources of entertainment fade
The confines close in,
And the loss of freedoms
Begin to set in.

What is most amiss?
The face to face
To see and feel
To interact, to feel of significance.

At heart we are social.
Beings in need of beings.
So here lies opportunity
To reach out in solidarity.

Break free of the concepts,
Traits of greed and fear.
Evolve to enable
Humanity at its best.

Perhaps the greatest outcome
Is yet to be seen,
As from our strife and grief
We learn the truest meaning

Of the real ‘Shelter in Home’.
For you are the home
Where the grandest one
Chooses to reside.

So take the time now given,
To acquaint and befriend.
Meditate in your solace
On the place most neglected.

Uncover your buried gifts
Your allies, your strengths
Your inner peace and joys.

The key to this realm
Is to deflect and rebuke
The noise, the distractions
Of the exterior, the illusions.

With these layers
Of shelter in home,
Be kind
Be gracious
Be in gratitude.
For you are ‘home’
And in home
Of the greatest of arms.

Madness of March


From the maddening crowds
Masked with mayhem,
To voluntary quarantine
And prohibited movement

The making of mass hysteria.
Heads rise above the cellphone
Our seeming invincibility
Suddenly cracked open

Finally we see each other.
Is it with empathy or fear?
Is it with comradeship or disdain?

With opposing forces
Hand in hand
How are we to survive?
How are we to accept them all?

Looking to Mother Nature
She shows constant dichotomies
Where the unlikely
Co-habit and even thrive.

On the hardened brittle bark
Beauty resides
As blooms spring forth
Soft and sumptuous.

From murky stagnant pools
Emerge the pristine lotus flowers,
No looking back or down
Just rising with a divine grace.

So this March
Is like no other,
Tests and trials
All yet to come.

Let not madness reign
As the confusion may prevail,
Rather rise with fortitude
And generosity of heart.

What comes, must pass
So lose not sight,
And ask of yourself
What are my powers
Which are constant,
Restoring and sustaining.