Poems

आसमान में बढ़ें, हम जमीन पे चलें
हम नहीं झुकने वाले इस वतन के लिए
सर उठा के चलें, सर उठा के बढ़ें
हम फिदा हैं सनम इस वतन के लिए।
...

Each evening, as dusk loosens the day from its grip,
she dresses for a memory.
Silk once radiant now whispers in threads,
edges frayed like the patience of time.
...

Following months of frozen, piled-up snow
with a few times of false alarms of thaw,
the melt came swiftly and surely.
Some warmer days that reached plus one or two
...

A palace, shimmering in gold and light, stood far beyond the reach of need, its walls built from polished dreams, its doors locked tight by desire and greed. Inside, love drifted like a wisp of smoke, a fleeting ghost that never quite settled, while a silent crown of relentless labor ruled every hour of every day. Coins fell like gentle rain, laughter wrapped in silk and shine, creating a world where comfort shaped each breath and pleasure felt almost divine. Below, a bridge of flesh and bone stretched thin across her radiant land, a path she crossed without a second thought, a tool bending to her will. Yet the roots beneath that golden tree were nurtured with careful grace, for those who breathed life into the palace were cradled in a softer, kinder place. But when a well ran deep and dry, still pouring more than it could contain, its gifts were deemed too small, its generosity met with deepening shadows. Then a storm with a thunderous voice arrived, snapping a branch without a sound, leaving a body split in pain upon the cold, unyielding ground. A wounded earth lay still and bound, slowly learning how to heal, while silence filled the empty space where warmth was once meant to be felt. Above, that distant golden light still demanded more than it could see, blind to the cracks, the quiet cries, the cost of forced humility. No shade was offered, no gentle breeze, no hand reached down from all that height, just echoes of unending need falling through the fractured night. And truth remains where silence grows some towers rise so far, so wide, they never notice the broken ground where faithful hearts are left behind.
...

journey homeward
a boomerang makes a near
circular flight path
*
...

A fire burns, you cannot see,
A will so strong, it lives in me.
A hope that shines, a steady light,
Keeps me alive, through day and night.
...

How much do you truly love God?
Is He the Lord of your body, your soul, and your spirit,
or merely the God you display on your phone screen?
Is God your Master,
...

Oh, how I love her still…
Oh God, how I love her,
how I love her still.
...

A memory I cannot forget,
Of days not long gone
When laughter fell from my lips like worship,
For joy in Christ overflowed my soul.
...

I write, yet dread the ink should speak too plain,
Praying thou find'st the truth herein contained.
How oft I strive, aye, and most bitterly,
To give a name to this which stirs my breast,
...

If I had a million tongues, they
would still fall short
of telling the beauty Your
hands have shaped.
...

We are a tiny planet in the universe. Millions of people suffer from the consequences of wars.
When are they going to wake up to the consequences of waging destruction on the masses of the world's poor.
They speak in God's name they say and he's with them, in the same breath.
Delusional people who have no concept of the divine.
...