Please Tell Me, If You Ever Know... Poem by indira babbellapati
Please Tell Me, If You Ever Know...
who robbed us of the days
we laughed with childlike mirth?
who robbed us of the days
when vibrations flowed between us
like milk and curds in their
purest form that little krishna
filled his tummy with?
who robbed us of the days
we danced and sang on unknown
river banks competing against
wind water and amusing little ripples
set in those crystalline waters?
who robbed us of the days
we built any number of castles
by the mighty seas and swayed
to the rhythm of the waves?
who robbed us of
the air that giggled in glee?
who robbed us of
the days of milky moonlight?
who robbed us of
the first showers of monsoon?
who robbed us of
the days of peacok feathers?
who robbed us, dear friend?
can we retieve those days of
spontaneous giggles
unfretterd spirit
uninhibited expression...?
tell me, my friend
if you know the one
one who robbed us of the
very fundemental connection
is he the master-crafter time?
is she a naughty elf?
him or her i wish to meet
no, not to accost
but to see if the booty
really filled his or her heart
and if it did
i wish to leave all of it
for their happiness...
20sep2009
13.20hrs
ohh, this poem is really wonderful. i mean, at first, it just seems an amazing poem with good imagery, but i am so amazed at the pointless innocence of it. i don't know what, ....but this poem does it. the last stanza is typically beautifully innocent. i'm not at all exaggerating. another side of you ma'am, scintillating in its purity and sheer brilliance. thank you.
From: Brett Ackerman (Colorado Springs United States; Male; 44) To: Indira Babbellapati Date Time: 9/23/2009 3: 01: 00 AM (GMT -6: 00) Subject: Re: please tell me... I think it has something to do with structured learning and chasing whatever monetary denomination you're living with. But, many fiction writers have made great books on this very subject matter.
The days of swaying with the lilies are still with us, although we have become the sun and the earth and nurture new flowers. We let them in their radiance, and guide them with a word or two, well placed. Yet a dropp or two of fresh rain still makes it to the cheek and the full moon still bathes in milk, Accept their invitation, valiant servant, and for just a night, become all that once was and is now cherished, so that the morning will have sunshine
I know, you too know..it is the self of the survival changing in accordance to the needs of mortality...a memorable poem indeed
The greatest robber is time. A poem of exquisite beauty.
no, not to accost but to see if the booty really filled his or her heart and if it did i wish to leave all of it for their happiness.. who robbed us of the days? (maybe the days robbed us from themselves) .........a deep verse conceals the Game of Life! well expressed Indira! I liked your style of writing! we laugh, we vibrate, we dance, we sing, we dream BUT neither Joy perpetuate nor Sadness everything is ephemeral... life has two faces sometimes shows the Beautiful Face and other times shows her second face, the Ugly one... to live peacefully we have to accept the Reality as it -the Life as it- 10 for the Great Question: Who Robbed Us Of The Days? ? ?
dear Indira, if you ever find out, do let me know...for I too have pondered the same thing....
growing up is such a pain worldly wise we become... the natural expression of life we lose in this strife.... lovely poem very inspiring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 2:34:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Yes, i know who robs us, indira........ it is none other than our inner self who keeps on rejecting the past to glorify present and dreamy future, what say? ? ? Plz do think about it, dear! ! !