by Varsha Sreenivasan
[box]The poem speaks about the Supreme in Its Creator, Nurturer aspects. It also talks about the human arena where the nature of the Creator or ‘Creativity,’ plays out and is witnessed. It highlights the role of human beings as both the instruments and witnesses of this Supreme Play, where the Creator is deemed as All Knowing and the human as a mere pawn in a largely unpredictable play of daily life. The human acknowledgment of the divine as the One behind it all and the eternal quest for meanings in this Play forms the background to this piece. Is there a meaning locked away somewhere? Is there a key to this treasure chest? The search continues…[/box]
[box type = “bio”]Varsha Sreenivasan has been an active contributor to Spark since August 2010. She is an ex-media professional currently involved in the field of film-making. She prefers to describe herself as a student of Nature like everyone is. She believes, as such a student, she is still learning. She dabbles in ‘juvenile poetry’ and prefers rhyme to reason.[/box]
Perched in
one corner,
pen on paper,
clueless me
counting the hours,
until we meet..
me and Her.
“child,”
breathes the wind,
“..what’s the matter?”
continues
the voice
of Mother Nature.
not a word
out of the pen,
not a word
to account for
many hours spent
worrying about
the blank
assignment.
“Not in the mood
to write?”
asks She;
i turn around
sheepishly.
“that’s the question
i..
have for You
Mother,”
comes the
quiet reply
as my answer.
She turns
Her head,
She looks
at me;
“What does
that mean?”
She asks
cautiously.
“i am
the pen,
You are
the words;
i..the instrument
You use
to execute
Your work”
“I see”
says She
if I
am the Doer
and not you..
then why
don’t you
give up?
you have
nothing
to lose!”
“exactly,”
i say
i have
nothing
to lose,
and everything
to gain,
if i play well,
this waiting game
that You taught me
O Mother dear..
i will always remember
when You said,
“child, nothing
but waiting
is
the real thing,
by which
one gains
everything.”
“So what
do you
hope to gain
dear child?”
She asks
turning to me
Her blazing eye.
i wonder
at the icebergs
melting inside..
is it summer
already?
i jump
in sudden joy.
“i hope
to gain
some answers
dear Mother.”
eyes meet
the gaze
of Mother Nature,
the One
who always
teaches
Her children..
never ever
shy away from
asking your question.
“ASK,”
She commands
i try
to remember..
what did i
wish
to ask Mother?
suddenly i fish out
a question
for Her,
this beautiful world,
this immaculate creation,
this perfectly co-ordinated
play of
space, time and matter..
what
is the meaning?
what is the point
of it all
o Mother?”
“child,”
i hear
Her gentle laugh,
“as the child
you ask,
as the Mother
I offer,
but for a while
from now,
I ask
to reverse
this order;
I will meet
you here,
same time
next year
and when
I ask
you
this question,
you will have
finally
discovered
your answer.”
Rubbing my eyes
i sit upright
was that
a dream?
i wonder
and smile;
as the church bells
chime,
i hurry along,
to the study where
in the dream
i had gone;
papers on the table
pen in my hand,
i address
to myself
my assignment.
“Give first,
ask later,
Give unconditionally
like
a True Mother;
Don’t worry
about race, class
or gender;
But when you
give,
Give
like a True Mother.
Don’t wait
to heal another,
Don’t wait
to help another,
Don’t wait
to strengthen another,
and when you
give,
Give
like a True Mother.
Give
to another
that missing piece,
the jigsaw
puzzle called You
will solve itself;
Give
to another
that smile
that heals
the scalding burns
of a thousand hells.
Give;
don’t bother
what you
get for yourself,
When You are
whole
you’ll know,
like a thousand
rising Suns,
your light
will show,
everything
you were
giving to,
were the missing
pieces of
One puzzle
Called
You”.
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