The Briefest Bloom....Excerpt.....The Ecstatic Dance Of Soul Poem by Jayita Bhattacharjee

The briefest bloom, pouring a lifetime of memories,
The opening petals, spilling a fragrance of eternity,
Unfolds in awareness of the truth of life,
Knowing when the time comes,
The bud that once blossomed,
Will leave behind its fragrance in air,
And through its rising scent, a legend will live
To speak about a life that once found its breath.

Winds may scatter the wildest fragrance,
But the richest of blooms live in the heart,
That live from time to the spell of eternity.
The flower that opens once in a lifetime,
Knows the sun comes for it, breaking through the clouds,
And the fragrance scatters, as a song escaping the lips,
To sing of a life that held its briefest bloom.
The bud that opens for life,
Sees light through every dawning day,
So, it can unfold in scent and richness,
To weave a legend that speaks of a time beyond.

The life that seems a landscape of pain,
Yet a bud struggles to see its bloom,
The life that has been a mix of colors,
Yet a bud struggles to splash its richness.
The glimpse of grandeur, dawning at sight,
The birth of lyrics singing through its scent,
Does with me what spring does to this earth.

The bud carries the light of a living legend.
Such is the perennial bloom on earth,
That wakes with a morning glory,
In the rising dawn of gold.
The fearless bud that flourishes in light,
Lives its briefest bloom, leaving love in the air,
Where you feel it, smelling its scent,
The one that makes you have a love affair with life,
The one that makes your soul so perfumed,
That you live smiling through the seasons of life.
And yet find your way back to your heart.

The bud that broke for the briefest bloom,
Left behind a sea of light, where I plunge amazed,
To immerse my soul in an eternal molten gold.
The bloom that scattered a love along the way,
I lift my eyes to its plethora of colors,
And lo! My heart unfurls in delight!
My eyes carry the words that tell of yesterday's bloom,
And I who went frigid, melt in music,
as my lips part, wide and wild.

I who have soul, choose to make the choicest emotion,
The glee that dances over meadows and hills, rivers and rocks,
To speak of a bloom that got plucked as God needed it so.
To hear the bloom faded in dark and yet to whisper to my soul,
To be the eyes that see through dark and break through the haze,
To be a wave breaking on shores and yet to join the swell of sea,
To be a tree that held the bloom and read the memory of a withered beauty,
Is to weave a saga, from yesterday's blossom in brief.

The fragrance so intense, I choose to smell again, yesterday's lingering essence,
As the scent that roams in the lanes of dark, speaks to my heart,
To rise and join the dance of life again.
What came and left along this pathway of life.
Only in the essence of its love, do I behold the infinity.
The stars up there fall in my palms, the moon in a face of silver,
Bathes me in a sea of wonder, and I rise to recite the charms of a briefest bloom.

In its beauty, I see the light amidst the gales that chase rainclouds.
In its briefest bloom, I smell the joy that left its eternal scent.
Hanging in the air, draping the earth in the scent of hope,
It calls my soul to rise and write my heart on every rock,
On every leaf, on every flower, on every bark,
To tell the deepest poetry that once rose from its bloom,
While the time is still here, in this transient life.



......Jayita Bhattacharjee
The Ecstatic Dance of Soul