a poet and a thinker...

Tuesday 7 January 2014

END OF THE RAINBOW

END OF THE RAINBOW

We yearn.
Yes, this I write for us all. Each day a sun rises and each night it hides away, the same cycle continues unaltered, uneventful. We wake up. We sleep.
Yet there is something that imparts some meaning to 'not dying' we call life. Yes, we yearn.

So desire is the fuel that keeps us interested. We dream... we imagine...we desire... and thus, we try and stretch our arms to grab that one thing we want.

So we travel far and wide, in daydreaming and in person, searching frantically for that little crystal of sugar we know is just one step farther from our anthill. We set standards, really high standards. We keep deadlines so difficult to meet. We work, frantically.

"I see the rainbow! There it is" says a little girl, fascinated by the lovely stroke of colour pastel on a lively blue canvas. "Its so real, so tangible! If only I could get a little closer!"
"Hop on along with me" says the little rabbit in her head."we will see what lay at its end"
She looked around the playground. The children seem to have not noticed the profound beauty that lay within what seemed an arms reach to her.
"I will get there first" she tells herself...

And thus begins a chase. The beauty in the simplicity of 'desire' lost by the blinding hurry. "The world is a rat race..." remembered the little girl as she paced towards the rainbow. She could see it. She knew it existed. "Just a few more steps" she tells herself.
In her chase, the poor girl missed the wonders that lay sprawled across the lovely garden-the trees, the bugs, the flowers, the pond-she missed it all, chasing the rainbow. Her desire and the chase together forming a demonic combination much more real than the sky and the rainbow. The rainbow is but a fallacy, just like the sky that is unreal. In our journey we should not overlook that what is really important, that what really exists, that what really matters.

The world is a rat race, yes, but when a part if it,  we only make rats out of ourselves! What may seem the ultimate joy might be the the most irrelevant of all things. Real joy is within us. Our happiness is in what lay around us, not in what we are made to believe in. Our own little bag of grain...

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This poem talks about the places we travel to (a metaphor for experiences we have) in our life time and how joy is not anywhere but within us!
It asks the reader to stop looking for imaginary pots of gold and start soul searching instead! Introspection is a powerful tool!
The title 'end of a rainbow' also signifies the same thing- end of virtual reality... and discovery of the real truth. Afterall, a rainbow is virtual, like the sky, and can never be reached or touched!

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END OF THE RAINBOW
Vast seas I travelled, their depths unseen,
long routes I trod with a mind so free,
unto sky I dived  but the sky is fake
-a sheet of fallacy spread by a rake-
To trees whose roots go beyond belief,
To waters who beget life and relief,
to winds , the high lords of this earth,
I walked and walked to unearth,
What joy lay at the rainbows end,
what, for me, the heavens would send.
Far across the streets so narrow,
across the woods and puddles shallow,
across the arms of the mountain soil,
And across the earth we toil,
to places distant and people new,
to grasses less green, with lesser dew,
to shades not traversed by rays of sun,
to rivers that form the ocean one,
far and near I go and back,
On roads I travel and on my tracks,
my shoes are wrinkled, the stick now bends,
No pot of gold at no rainbows ends,
but a bag of grains within me I found,
within myself my joy profound.
The heavens havent sent, but ourselves,
We are atleast, our own lucky elves,
Vast seas within, we must travel,
find our own gold and our own gravel.

-Mx

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