Talking To Myself... Poem by sundaram chandrakalaadhar

talking to myself
&
care you this world-
this world of men,
o my friend?
must you then be an idiot!
worry not a bit;
woo it not-
the more you woo
more the bites would you get-
with scornful eyes
it would jeer at you-
on your path slanders
would it sow in plenty-
for it is a mysterious mad world.
&
so take up that lovely harp-
tune its delicate sparkling strings
to the pitch of emotion
that sings witin you-
those solemn, melodious..
mellifluous soul-stirring songs-
unheard of yet
by the thick-membraned ears
of this dull world of men!
&
let the two pitches-
that within and without-
blend naturally and gracefully;
let your path vibrate
with your ecstatic songs-
let the air dance
to the rhythm of
your serene soft songs!
&
proceed on and on
along your lonely path;
never look back
to see this world..
it may be aiming your head-
a mad world it is
let me remind you!
&
set the bowl of fancies
before your glittering wisdom;
pour the sweet nectar
of your moony heart-
stir fast with the meditation
of your mind-
catch the refrain
of the supreme joy
from the sparkling spots
as they spin
in magical rhythm
in swooning circles-
bind it deftly to your songs!
this world has no ears
for good things-
new fragrances fail
to thrill its nostrils-
likes to crawl only
in beaten narrow tracks
folding tight its wings-
so shed not tear-drops
if you are far removed
from winds of appreciation
&
relent not a bit-
have the delicate strings
of your harp loosened a bit?
screw it tight-
pluck them fast;
speak through your strings;
let your songs overflow the cup
of your unspent life-
enjoy it fully!
&
take up your chisel;
sharpen it
with your designs-
behold the lofty mountain
standing in silent majesty
in front of your tiny frame-
carve and carve
day and night
till it yields itself
to charming angels!
rejuvenate your slackened nerves
with cups of dreams
peppered with imagination!
&
build your tiny boat
this night itself-
tow it to the shore
and push into the ocean
of poet's delight
when a friendly tide
calls it in
with a loving heave!
work your small oars briskly
and sail forward
deep into ocean's roars-
do not care
the sandy shores;
your world is
the boundless sea;
your songs
that of the joyful tides!
&
look ahead
into the blue billow-
dance in joy
with the roaring waves;
read everything
your eyes encompass-
holding no thought
of the sandy shore
sail forever
in search of newer worlds;
new delights
and glories new-
but beware of those
with designs
to torpedo from behind!
&
meditate in the limpid silence
of the night-
and in the freshness
of the dewy morn;
and in the mellowness
of the dusk
with wide open eyes-
pile up your works;
look never back
at those mocking eyes-
let juicy thoughts
full of lustre flow perennially
from the moist tip
of your mighty pen;
never allow
to cease its flow!
&
do not spy
they read or reject
the patient creations
of your passionate heart!
that should never be
your sickening worry;
but to write non-stop
must be duty-prime-
let your works stand
face to face
against yonder mountains
in all its pride and humility!
&
before this world
wakes up from its slumbers
pour out all
from your boisterous heart
and bestow those comely thoughts
a lovely shape
enduring life
everlasting lustre
soul of truth
and lively wings!
release them free
in the marvellous skies
and stupendous space
to sail among stars!
&
let them flutter
their cheerful wings
cooing their hearts out
in sudden bursts of
soul-thrilling songs
with the fragrance of your heart
upon their wings
scenting strong
their happy ways and days!
&
till then
rest not
wink not
your eyelids-
o my friend...!
it s all for your soul
and to a soul
generations away
continents away
that awaits
with a longing heart!