Nature's Child

The earth is her mother,
She’s the sister of the trees.
The mountains are her guardian,
She sets nature free.

She’s the dancing of the wind,
The ballet of the leaves.
She’s the shout of thunder,
The silence of the breeze.

She plays silently on the sand,
Making little waves on the vast land.
The sea mistakes her silence for subtleness
But subtle…Not She!
She’s not like a daffodil, soft and sweet,
But more like an exotic orchid with vibrant heat!

The wave thrashes, ruining her creation,
Thinking that it is only for recreation.

Around she turns fiery eyed,
Not believing that all she has created has died.

At first, there is no movement in her form,
Then.. the earth trembles, a tempest is born.

She lashes at the sea,
Flings the water in the air,
And there in the heavens she makes appear,
Hades, Orion and the great bear.

A cool breeze blows and calms her down,
And all her anger is reduced to a frown.
The sun warms her face with its honey yellow heat,
The waves ask for forgiveness by lapping at her feet.

A dimple appears on her cheek,
Her face breaks into a smile.
She bounds away from all who seek,
She is nature’s child.
------2002

Far in the horizon the deep blue sea,

Is beckoning and calling me.

Promising, like the future to come,

To be clear, calm and problem free.

But how can I know, how can I tell?

Whether this future is meant to be,

Whether the future actually holds all that it promises to be.

Is it a mirage on the beach?

Disappearing as soon as I reach?

Does it exist? Is it true?

Or is it just a paradise of a fool?

Should I hold on to it?

Should I believe it?

Or should I just forget it and leave it?

I would definitely want to e in that,

If it is what it seems to be.

It can be true, it can be possible,

Just as that clear and muddy water were miscible.

But can 2 such different stages of life so beautifully match?

Or does there always have to be a catch?

Presume that im in it,

Presume that im there…

Will I be happy in it ?

Or will I get a scare?

Give me a hint, give me a sign

My Angel, when I get a choice,

Please help me make up my mind

--- 17^th October 2002

A noose hangs around my neck,

Tightening with every breath.

Thrusting upon me a pain to bear,

Filling me with nothing but despair.

My heart is bursting and there is an aching pain

And I wonder…from this, what will I ever gain?

Standing up there alone, proud and tall

When Id rather in someone’s arms fall.

My hands are searching frantically

I strain to grasp her

She stands stoically, not lifting a finger.

Other’s strain and reach out trying to help me,

Doesn’t she know that she is the closest one who can set me free?

Then someone’s hand I try to clutch,

But then, with a mere whisper of her breath, she breaks the touch.

Im left there hanging on the noose,

Unable to accept help of those who choose,

Those who could help me make it a little loose.

I never wanted all or none,

I was willing to accept whatever little could be done.

Why she thinks I deserve it I will never know

When she only got me into this world to show.

Not liking the results that came,

She put the noose around me and made it my shame.

Now she stands there watching, As time goes by.

As I lose a breath with every sigh.

I cough, I sputter, I try to breathe.

The blissfully I think that the day has come,

When all I will wear around my neck will be a wreath.

-----2002

The best way to understand someone is to fight him, make him angry. That's when you see the real person.

The Man Who Thinks He Can

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't.
If you'd like to win, but think you can't
It's almost a cinch you won't.

If you think you'll lose, you've lost.
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow's will:
It's all in his state of mind.

If you think you're outclassed, you are:
You've got to think high to rise,
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You'll ever win that prize.

Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man,
But sooner or later the man who wins
Is the one who thinks he can.

- Napoleon Hill circa 1973