Touching the Universe

I look into your eyes and I see spiraling galaxies of my universe holding your infinite love

I bask in their shine each time you gaze at me and bloom

Like moonflower in moonlight

Sunflower in sunlight

Coming alive

For I am yours

Falling into the depth of your eyes

I know time and space don’t matter

As I will be embraced in your love for eternity

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A Sunlit Morning

It is a glorious morning. After a spell of refreshing rain during the past few weeks, it feels wonderful to see the bright and cheerful face of the sun. I can hear the soft flutter of wings as the birds, in their multitude of colors, fly past my window into the lovely blue sky. The white puffs of clouds remind me of vanilla ice cream and cotton candy.

Nature comes alive in all its vibrance as the sun rises and its warm rays touch all things living and non-living alike, urging them to fulfill their purpose to the best of their ability as if it was their last day on mother earth. Young sparrows chirp in their nests while being fed as if in gratitude for life, trying hard each day to strengthen their wings to lift off in flight.

The trees and little plants look so tranquil in the fresh morning air, gently swaying in the soft breeze. Drops of dew on their lush green leaves shine like diamonds as sunlight kisses them tenderly. They seem to be drawn to the sun as if in love with the life-giving golden light, propelling their happy, smiling faces upwards to grow, blossom and flourish for their Creator.

Devotion or Pollution? Nature is a Work of Art!

One day, a professor of art asked his very eager and eager students, “Do you put in a huge amount of effort into the art you create?” His students replied, “Of course! We devote ourselves day and night working on and perfecting our techniques. Behind every masterpiece created, there is years of unseen practice.” The professor smiled and replied, “I see. So your art is a very precious creation for you; it is like your baby.” The students replied, “Indeed Sir. We work very hard to create those intricate details, put a great deal of thought into it, lot of love, care and attention. It is very gratifying when people delight in our art and look after them well.” The professor was thoughtful and nodded his head with a smile.

He continued, “Let me tell you the story of a little boy whose mother was an artist. As he grew up, everyday, the boy watched his mother work very hard, practice and improve her methods. In her lifetime she created a great many paintings and they became extremely famous and renowned. One day, she gave her most labored, cherished and most beautiful painting for her son to keep and enjoy, and peacefully passed away. In honour of his mother, to glorify and celebrate her name, the son displayed this painting in his home and lighted candles every year on her anniversary, as an ode to her. Year after year he did this piously and ceremoniously.

Although he noticed that the candles were depositing soot, grime and damaging the painting his mother created with painstaking effort, the boy did not care. He was too busy filling and inflating his own ego about how great and devoted a son he was to celebrate his mother as such; his mother must be grateful to him instead of complaint, as no other son glorifies his mother as he. One such anniversary, a windy night that it was, the fire of the candle touched the painting and the whole thing went up in flames leaving only ash as remains of what was once true beauty.

Did the son realise his folly? Was it wise to foolishly and pompously ruin someone’s hard work? What use was such a realization now that it was too late? Was it possible to restore what was destroyed by pseudo devotion? Is it true devotion when there is no thought for others and it satisfies only one’s ego? Now that you have listened to this story, tell me your feelings, my dear students.”

The students were thoughtful and absorbed by the narrative. “It is a shame. It is an atrocity, indeed.” The professor calmly went on to ask them, “Now let me ask you a different question, do you feel that nature inspires the artist in you? When you’re stuck with an idea, do you feel that a walk among the trees, sitting by a lake, or feeling the breeze on your cheeks at the sea helps you open up your soul and create beauty? Or does a walk along a grimy, dirty road with vehicles honking, smoke, dust and poisonous gases oozing into the air and people shouting curses… does this inspire you?” All the students burst out laughing, “Of course not Sir, beautiful nature inspires us.”

The professor continued, “My dear students, now tell me, don’t you think that nature is the work of art by God, in all its majestic beauty and glory. Don’t you feel that by using non-ecofriendly firecrackers at Diwali festival celebrations, we are pretty much like the son who ruined his mother’s work of art in the end due to his own misdirected devotion. Isn’t it our own ego that we are celebrating, if we do not have concern for God’s painstaking creation, His beautiful nature? Shouldn’t we correct our ways? Please ponder on this during this season, and do what you feel is the best way to celebrate God. As for me, I am sure that kindness, compassion, consideration for others and nature, and preserving nature’s purity is the best way to glorify His name.”

Truth Makes People Uncomfortable

A naive young girl

Eyes sparkling with the light of trust

Gave her heart out to all she met

Loyal to each that called her a friend


She believed all those who smiled at her were true

Dispensed her friendship as freely as sunshine

Not understanding that those who called themselves real

Wore a beautiful mask hiding ugliness underneath


For she wore her beauty and ugliness on her face

Every emotion there expressed honestly

For her friends to see all sides of her

Because truth includes both aspects, beauty and beast


Expecting the same in return was a mistake

Trust is not to be handed out freely


During turbulent storms of truth

When friendships are put to the test

And facades laid bare

She would discover

Who would abandon ship, fire canons at her, sink her to the bottom of the dark ocean

And who would do everything they can to keep her afloat

To make it to the horizon where they would be embraced by the golden sun


Though it pained her to see friends leave

She realised God’s mysterious way

That eliminated fake charlatans

Masquerading as friends in her life

To leave her with the real true ones

That she’d always prayed for


Now they may be plain and covered in dust

Diamonds in the rough

Not quite so glamorous as the fancy masqueraders

But I think God and I both preferred

The unostentatious, simple and straightforward

The Ocean and the Seashore – A Love Beyond Time

Ours is a tale of love as old as creation.

For you are the Ocean and I am the Seashore.

The music of our joy, our song besprinkled,

In seashells across the earth.

The waves and the sand merge together for eternity. The Ocean returns after a weary trip round the world into the arms of his beloved Seashore, who waits earnestly and patiently for him to come home to her. Their union brings happiness to their human children as they frolic and play in the dancing, lapping, majestic waves and bury their feet in the warm, healing sands.

The Ocean and the Seashore are inseparable. Without boundaries, they blend and mix, entwine in such harmony that it is unfathomable where the Ocean ends and the Seashore begins.

Thus are you and I joined together forever. Sure as the sun that bounces golden above the waters.

Sacred is the place where I met you and you professed that Your love for me “is as vast as the sea, the ocean that spans this earth” and I was overcome and conceded, “You have me that loves you forever”. I saw your face light up in the most beautiful smile of thrill and contentment that my heart melted.

I rest my head on your shoulder, sitting beside you in the soft sand and you hold my fingers in yours. As I watch the blue waters stretch out to the sun and the endless sky change colours, I can’t but feel at peace with nature and with myself.