What am I?

Inspired by Who are you?

a mischievous whistle over a tidy river. 

the last arrow in your quiver.
an image that you finally delete.

a thought, you thought you could cheat.
a nameplate that you throw away.

a favorite song you've forgotten. 

a favorite dress made of cotton.

a battle you wished you had won.

your many loves hidden in one.
a sleepless night spent over a silly fight.

a dog's loose fur.

a cat's loving purr.
a faded garden of books.

your corner among many nooks.
the last scent of your past loves.

an old pen that you still keep.
a pair of Hawai chappals cheap.
a call of the wild.

still a growing child...

a snowflake made of fractals.

born of stardust, 

on Earth's crust, 

out of lust,
someone's living trust.
a human universe made of halos.

A hill of beans

Neither the problem nor the solution exists outside our minds. Our small, narrow minds. 

Climate change. Overpopulation. Serial killers. Abusers. Tyrants. Dictators. Wars. Famine. Floods. 

Most of these 'problems' are all caused by us but impact other life forms on Earth as well. That's the only true tragedy. One species causes the destruction of so many other species purely because of 'our progress', and not because of 'our evolution' is the real tragedy.

Most of the 'solutions' to these problems, caused by us, impact only us; that is also a consequential tragedy.

Our existence is a mere blip in time. All our history, nostalgia, and good old days, all amount to nothing. 

Just a hill of beans. 

Just like individual cells live and die in 'our body', so do 'we' live and die in 'this body'. 

Our impermanence is real. The flux is true. 

Birth and death are mere words in languages we've invented that have no meaning beyond them. 

We're just 'vibrations' that seem real only to dissolve into that which we emerged from. 

A million times

When memories dried and dead 
Are awakened
At night, as nightmares
Only to be forgotten again,
A million times...

When life cuts your 
Heart out to dry
Under a scorching sun,
A million times...

Know that love 
Was served to you
On the bleeding edge 
Of a kitchen knife, 
And not on a silver platter,
A million times...

Till an oven bakes love for you
Into perfection
A million times...