Voices vs Noise

My thoughts inspired by the RBG and current noise.

I speak
For when children
We’re only meant to be seen.

Obedience seen as a great virtue,
Not of the child
But perfect parenting.

The child conditioned
That those in authority , if happy,
Lead to their happiness.

I speak
For the young girl
Who has always waited second in line to the boy.

I speak
For the ethnic amongst us,
Chastised and ridiculed for our natural differences.

I speak
For the elderly, the poor, the veterans,
All those who’s voices are dismissed.

I speak
For all we have misunderstood,
For all we have had a hand in the making.

And now, I not only speak
But pray,
For a call to our senses, our consciousness.

With the raising of that conscious voice,
Only then will any speech
Be worthy for the time given to listen.

Dignity

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Dignity, driven to be attained by stature,
Letters behind the name
Certificates on the wall
Climbing the corporate ladder.

For some,
Dignity is synonymous with pride.
Endorsed by accolades and ‘likes’
Possessions and privileges.

Does more of anything
Really equate to dignity?

Perhaps to stand in front of a mirror
And look yourself in the eye.
Who is this person?
When stripped of titles, material possessions,
Even the relations of family-hood.

Dignity, is perhaps not a quality
But a by-product,
When one is able to have a sense of
Self worth and respect.

Should dignity not belong to all?
Despite circumstances of wealth
Identity of race, religion or sexual orientation.

How did we lose sight
Of our commonality?
And focus on only our differences?!

When the macro sphere has been reduced
Lost is the vision of the universe
Where we exist for less time than the snap of the fingers
And matter no more than any other dust.

Our vision has narrowed
And our true gift left unseen,
As we are held in the palm of existence
And bestowed with the dignity of life.

This is our identity
Life from the giver of life!

Can we accept the greatest of gift?
Do we recognize its preciousness!
To be granted this opportunity
This is what equates to self worth
Beyond any measure of wealth.

With this said,
Each man is equal
Being granted his time and opportunity
Of this here lifetime.

Allowing this to resonate,
Dignity then emanates from within
For oneself and every other living companion,
No matter the outward differences.

Rock, Water, Sand.


Defying physics you stand
Your strength is daunting
Your stature mighty

Yet here comes the ocean spray
Wave after wave
And you welcome the attention

You dance and yield
With the passion of lovers
And caressed are your contours

Your union brings forth
Countless grains of sand
Capturing the essence of time

With every turn
There is awe
In these simple cyclic laws

When elements work together
Magic happens
The impossible is possible

For how can a mighty rock
Be so transformed
Into the tiniest of particles

And no less
Than by drops of water
One wave at a time

And within me
One breath at a time
Is revealed a celebration

Of existence at its finest
Carrying a simple joy
Which even lapping waves can teach

Rakshabandan

You arrive and greet
This morning of Rakshabandan.
As always, in full bloom
With unequivocal light and love.

This symbolic yellow rose
Stops me in my tracks
As you, brother, embodied
It’s rich depth and warmth.

Saving me from my sorrow
I see how love transverses all.
Physically no longer side by side
Yet our spirits still unite.

Our bond is clear
My brother dear,
As you remain with and between us,
Your loving sisters.

Today is Rakshabandan, the day of celebrating the bond between a brother and sister. The yellow rose is the symbol, my two sisters and I chose, that represents our departed beloved brother, Dipak.
From an unknowing third party, what should the universe send my way today of all days, but a yellow rose surrounded equally by three buds! What an image of our sibling unity!

Bigger than the differences..

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Five seas
Seven continents
Countless countries
And seven billion faces

Of all the possibilities
You and I meet!

Short acquaintances
Long friendships
Pleasant affairs
Awkward collisions

Personal or political
Social or historical
The issues are many
And repeated generationally

Attracting and repelling
Sometimes reoccurring
Encounters test and teach
But are we ready for the learning

For the snapshot
Of our existence
What will we gain
What legacy will be changed

Whether we live
Loud and large
Or quiet and small
One thing is for sure

As we came
We shall leave
So as we meet
Let’s share a seed

The seed of kindness
With a listening ear
A supportive hand
And a wish for good stewardship

Hence, may we deserve to live
Upon this ‘pale blue dot’
And on exiting
Leave it the same if not a speck better

The Marks of June

June you mark the middle
Of a year
That has everyone
In quiet the pickle.

The unpredictable,
The unprecedented,
The insurmountable,
The game changers.

All in one
They are happening,
The noise deafening
The footprints indelible.

Biological or social
Emotional or political,
The fight for survival
The core of the struggle.

With debates and protests
Even the riots,
How can we possibly
Claim any rest.

Feeling the injustice
The denial, the inequality
With deep woven roots,
Perpetuating the atrocities.

Even with fight
Guided by knowledge,
Changes still need
Clarity and quietness

To allow the most powerful
To rise,
To be felt
To be seen.

So how to find
In these dark times
The magic of love?
The peace of love?

It must be the only way
The ancient way.
So go within to the core
Ground and center.

Move with that one
Rhythmic flow
Never to judge
Only to bestow.

Life, opportunity
Abundance of choice.
Breath is this anchor
Breath is the answer.

What seems so insignificant
Holds all that is magnificent,
Delve deep, delve often
Keep company

Of the one companion.
So her treasures
Maybe realized
And your peace will unfold.

Beauty of Remembrance

Oh poppy, you rise to bloom
With petals of royal red
And the deepest dark core

Giving unambiguous symbolism
Signature of reverence
For those never to be forgotten

You embody a pained dignity
In the midst
Of life’s most difficult times

You show me strength
With your inherent form
As you adorn my lapel

You drive me to confront
My challenges
And learn from your qualities

Remembrance:
Painful to embrace
But laced, she is, with deep love

Dignity:
Humanity’s stature
Measured by compassion

Clarity:
The fruit of growth
Despite the desire to revert

Poppy dear,
You’re nature’s gift
As you grace my garden
And bring gratitude to my heart.

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.

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.