Portraits Of Passion Poem by Praveen Kumar In Shobha Priya

Life is an eternal triangle
Where two sides spawn the third
And delivers fulfilment;
Caught is my soul 'tween heart and mind,
And churned like curds in a tug of war;
I yield to fate like a prisoner-of-war
And hope an accord 'tween the warring sides
To bring sweet peace and freedom for soul
And settle my fate for both the sides
With heart for heart and mind for mind;
One is in shades, the other, in light
And I am caught 'tween shade and light;
One is past, the other is present
And I am caught 'tween the past and the present
In a tasteless void and mindless welter
In weightless state between two worlds.


I am lost in a feelless ocean,
No fulcrum to revolve around;
I am lost in an endless heaven,
No signboard to guide me along.


The vennels of far sunshine of peace
Play hide and seek through clouds
And rouse me with the patches of the past
In the cool complacence of the present
And I wonder where I am:
In warm sunshine or cool shades?
Gold-edged clouds filter aureate sunshine
And refract to portraits of passion—
Soft woolly poems
Of sweet reflections of turbulent moments;
It is a reflected glory
In contrast to hard realities
That makes life a dream and dream, a life
And me, a torn rag,
Soaked in bitter joy;
Passions drip like blood
And coagulate to unknown words
To paint colourful portraits
Of the twin opposite worlds.


This is how I am today,
This is how I am today,
Neither here, nor there, nowhere,
Yet everywhere, in splintered passions.


The wind of passion and the barriers of reason
Pull apart from sides,
The heat of the past is at the back
And I run forward Like a mad dog,
Eyes shut,
All senses excised from now and here,
Somewhere, I know not where
In hope of meeting the past
In the circular world.


The world revolves round and round
And all the times are eternally bound
In unending cycle of the rise and fall
Where all, influx, yet immobile and still.


Where it all began, where it will lead,
Where the process passes, where it will stop,
I, in blinkers, cannot foretell,
But grope like an amblyope in night;
Warm sunshine hid from sight
Like dusk
Spread gloom around
Till the vennels of warm sunshine
Reappear in horizons
Like divinity opening winnocks
To flush the out darkness within
To the drains of the past.


The night is cool and beautiful,
Calm and still, while all asleep;
Full-moon smiles in reflected verve
And soothes sprained uneasy nerves.


Dawn and sunshine are warm and bright
Like live and eager spirit;
It awaken from the age-old sleep
And fledge the sprite for sky-high rise
To absolute divinity
Of joy, peace and contentment;
Opens up new horizons
Of thrills of explorations
Of new worlds of experience and growth
To supermanhood;
I am neither asleep nor awake,
But in confounded state
Of uncertainties.


Sometimes here, sometimes there,
Always in shuffling feet
Like one on the balancing act;
How long this state,
Uncertain myself
In this wasted exercise?
It all must end someday
And pave a royal way
To the passion's sweet world.


I must patiently wait,
I must patiently wait,
I must patiently wait
For the dawn of the golden age.