Tag: stars

The Boy With No Name

Happened in a few minutes, this one’s script, but the Time lapse + putting together, ah’m!

For actual kids and those with heart for the Unseen. Watch time – 9 mins., and special sound delivery 👉🏼 “Appey- man*” (line loan, Johann😀)

*fruit seller ‘Apple’

Woman

Not just raised as suns:

if you were sat in a chair in a room with closed door, your light spilt out Thresholds.

You did school, college & scrabble: got triple scores & blanks, double dares and heart break in crosswords where you

wrote Lyrics of Peace

Nah, you were/ are not only as sons.

You, He calls “… Pillars of the palace”*.

There will be bows of white satin & war,

there will be love and dances and chances

to seek treasure in Pain; uh games of gain,

of songs in Gethsemane Gardens *

where the Root of you~ will blossom o’ernight, as Lilies *

Suns might fall in the sea but Woman, you

were summoned to breathe by the breath of God :

from the womb of the crust of the dust of stars:

lest you forget you are first born

Natives of The Light. of Lights.

Lest you forget.

***

Innerdialects.

” daughters as pillars of the Palace ..”(psalm 144:12)

Hosea 14 :5:

I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily. Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots;his young shoots will grow. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon.

Gethsemane (/ɡɛθˈsɛməni/)[1] is a garden at the foot of the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem where, according to the four Gospels of the New TestamentJesus underwent the agony in the garden and was arrested the night before his crucifixion. It is a place of great resonance in Christianity. There are several small olive groves in church property, all adjacent to each other and identified with biblical Gethsemane.

Takeaways from a Cloud forest

I tried to pray out loud but there were no words, just clouds, walking loud into my eyes, like Tears of Heaven 

Yes I love mountains, hills: but this trip was clouds. From where we were at Tipu Sultan’s Sunrise Point,

Dawn was faster than our fingers could capture…
We’d slept in late. The suite was a surprise, unlisted in Bookings; 22 hours at Nandi hills, nestling in rain clouds. Feeling blest was a miracle all by itself.
All God’s creatures. Thanks Vi for this one, wish you were in it though. The monkas made us run. Lil terrors grabbed my bag twice (monkeys)
Wild nameless beauties

Sunset, innerdialects.

City lights

For one who is scared of heights, maybe I’m cured? 4600 ft felt good

In the stillness, you hear His Still small voice.
Pitch black night; blanked by cloud.
Moth wouldn’t move much. Was either pregnant or lazy.😲 And we are all Co- habitants of the same planet.

Vi & I sat staring into dawn after everyone else bundled back to bed. “Its not raining- like the forecast …?”

She replied, “Ma, will it feel like rain inside a cloud?”

A Gandhi man, in metal paint, green bowl. Foothills, Nandidurg.
Takeaways from a Cloud forest.

Stay warm, safe, blest! Pray.

FMF writers.

It is that time …

The rain last night left puddles and a ‘Bird of Paradise’ bud! Life goes on as we scramble for Oxygen, literally. India hurts, prays, vaccinates. Every Breath is a miracle no one’s taking for granted. Nor food, shelter, job. The Earth continues to deliver her grass, bird and foliage. It is that Time of Life. We crawl into our insides, we gaze out at the stars. Aye, this too shall pass. Till then we wait. And watch. And pray.

This is that time of Life, when strong men and weak pray.

The Greatest Human Need*

You see It* in naked mouths, in burdened markets, in death cells & cathedrals; we all await the same thing.

I saw It last week in a wee apartment & momma with sick child,

saw It crying in the Street yesterday outside a Cafe: a man sat in Crossword puzzles; his face sunk. A couple in phones, not touching shoulders like Love sits; she refused cake, he shrugged, got a green mango ice cream, the silence only stopped now and then when the happy eyed waiter grinned. He grinned as he walked between polka-dotted giant cups perched in high wooden open cabinets and acrylic fern;

we diced snakes & ladders at this Cafe called Narcos. Hmm. No drugs, just us in chilled sweaters and hungry for chat as mothers and daughters can be when needing to know we are loved – no conditions, no time to comb hair. There was that need, to taste a satisfaction…..

a diamond waiting to be sharved (just made that word) ;

It….is like Water waiting to Fall, like a Niagara e’en. We say, What. That….! But we turn into terrorists at Traffic messes, we become brooding hens over interruptions, we snarl at headlines, and run like headless chicken when ignored. Oh and this – we absolutely evangelize on the meanness of God when there’s an earth disaster, then we build Cathedrals of mistrust….

It was there yesterday at Happa Stationers‘- guy in dull red cap o’er few flat locks, he strung them over his shoulder, his face dead-fire, as we traded notes for exam accessories for my Kitsy,

she with eyes like stars over an unknown future. Some people are Bearers of Good. They go like a Lighthouse searching the dark:

Clover grass ‘neath step at Stationers.
Pic Courtesy : Kitsy Ruth.

****

we retrace steps back home, the sun is warm in our cold toes. Yea an Indian cold. Cold enough to shiver my pigeon;

am scared to read the papers – they lie face down in a jute bag under chair turned to the trees outside, as if asking these skies for Noah’s rainbow;

today’s unopened Times sun bathes next to Rosie, with her 50+ tiny spiky leaves and rose pouting…..

like us Humans rearing for relief.

We’ve schooled our Self to hiss like serpents in gardens of Grace. We rap our own knuckles if we fall prey to God’s Love. We skid, stop stare like rabbits caught in headlights, stammering- afraid to give in to Humanity’s best-masked need:

(Terrified of what we do not know, what we do know holds us safe among ‘relatables; eaters of edible bad news);

I saw It Staring at me via a Cartwoman selling tomatoes. No Cross tattoo in her throat like some of us Church goers host, no prayer beads except rich busy fingers at brinjal and coriander leaf, like she were a branch off Him who made her veggies! As if there was nothing to fear. Yeah her purpose to be the Bearer of Grace.

Yeah I can talk of Love and Valentine trophies all day but if I didn’t receive this Thing, I wouldn’t know how to give it. ‘IT’ …a 5 lettered word one sees best on a Hill far away.

Soon we’ll be doing Lenten fasts and Anthems to woo It back in our lanes, aye Grace– lurking in corners like a lost Lover, a jealous one, aching to forgive, bless, heal, restore, love:

aching that we believe *Its reach, Its depth, Its width, Its unfathomable Power to raise the Human Spirit from the Store Rooms of hell.

Yea, yes- the most under-rated, least accessed, the Greatest Human need there is- Grace:

Love always follows. No matter the odds.

Grace : unmerited divine assistance given to humans for their regeneration or sanctification. b : a virtue coming from God. c : a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine assistance.http://www.merriam-webster.com › grace

Sing, Soul

…shout leave, unhinge your dis- ease,

this body is a gift wrap, a heartbeat, a wrist full of pulse, a human cage

for all we don’t know.

Oh soul soul, I have done Life, done Time, cultured all my viral bacteria, my bones and salt tears,

my human gardens of hate, oh I wasted wealth praying for tinsel stars and plates of grass;

forgive me, I once merely asked for grave -deep health, never knelt at what we couldn’t touch; Coward, I

acknowledged only-  touchables.

..

So, Nah, how could there be duet with soul-

we are 7 billion+ none not oneextinguishable, for soul.

Ah, look with unhinged eyes, knowthe indefatigable invisible Mind

sing this Thing, I could not before, tell, yell of Its Depth, It’s width, It’s infinite Shore

bailing out our thirsty planet-puddles, look, sing of how It sews our fracture

of how It buries our dark, oh how It’s Light walks through all our distortions of Glass, my soul Sing,

like We are each other’s song, like We are all we’ve got! Here: where no sting no death no letting go

no creation of waste nor Playhouse of hate – like-have-no-soul?! Here even here Sing, before hell hangs Debate.

I once was a child but now I know my soul, my mind, my life,

leave, shut that cage.

Sing.

….

innerdialects

From the Womb of the Father

That line 👆 has been with me 3 weeks now. I wake up to sit in star-shade by our potted grapevine that snuggles baby pigeon twins: it is quiet, so quiet you could hear us breathe.

Sophia- the world’s first Robot citizen.

Times like these, it arrives with a Noise-

that we are Created:

the lot of us- kings, priests, fugitives, the dying, breathing, the reviven. I like that word : Reviven. (People do make up new words: check this from last year. So, this is my own word, unless someone’s beaten me to it and I’ve no clue😄!)..

it is in effect, making our own moment, we crash rigidity, we step down into cellars ‘neath our feet…..places we once knew existed, when we were unaffected by things we cannot physically see.

My puppet collection

Ach.

We are not puppets, we have free will, the power of choice, we own soul and incredible powers to make/ break each other. I am blown away by our ‘400,000 species of plant life’, leave alone secrets in DNA or a Robot named Sophia.

I do not understand Rape either, its dehumanization ; or even how it feels to be an Executioner, however just the cause..

… besides all of the above,

what on earth are ‘ghost particles’ surfacing from inner earth?

My gran Tara would’ve hooted with joy, “Finally we have discovered hell!”

I’ve taken after her I know. We are both Encountees of the Divine, we shush no-God theories. It’s our Doxa! We pray in the stars, we pray over meals, in traffic jams, over news headlines and politicians splitting hairs, tails, we are all extensions of each other! So I pray for border countries unashamed by raised brows. Hey, if you’ve hung around MRIs and Cat scans long enough, you’ve lost some dignity, you don’t care who says what about which.

Last year I recovered from a serious heart condition and got home as if nothing happened. Yeah, miracle. From the womb of Heaven. I vowed at the hemline of God, oh Trouser hem if you will…. that if I outlived that ordeal, I’d blog, I’d blig about it, everything under that category.

We die alone, we live alone really- we lean heavily on each other and sibling and spouse but truly it’s a life about Givery– as in Giving. All the fuss about proving Eden wrong? It pales next to our screaming need to know we are inimitable.

Ofcourse,

phosphorus! Always suspected the PH of fish was crucial to our existence. How star studies reveal that, is a good thing.

I look deep in the sky when I can and there they are: Scripture writ with bold hand across the sky. Sometimes I get a loveletter in cloud- tone dialects that go, “When one feels low, they must get some fish. To fry, or to curry.”

On occasion a P.S. “…works even when you’re in a good mood.”

So while we stare at fish ponds & the news, while some run out food and survival, I’m thinking on how tough it is for us to remember we did not make ourselves. (The mysteries of human construction are the biggest news there will ever be about us…)

As I post this I’m wrapping myself around a question :

aren’t you too often startled at how infinitesimally puny our ‘problems’ are in comparison to our Source… the DNA of One who ‘doesn’t exist’…

which very Insistence qualifies Him?

‘Poems are written by fools like me
but only God can make a tree..’
KIPLING

REVIVEN : IT EXISTS! Check here