The Broken Heart That Sees The Light.....Excerpt.....The Ecstatic Dance Of Soul Poem by Jayita Bhattacharjee

Into each heart, some pain weeps somewhere,
Into each soul, some words lie unspoken,
Into each life, some story stays unsaid,
But the moment dawns, the agony cracks,
And out comes the seed that needs to sprout.

There comes a place where a bloom opens,
There comes a time where whispers arise,
There comes a moment when every agony carves
A beauty in the heart, a painting in the soul.
Such is the color that deepens inside,
Where spirit mingles with the body.
And the lily breaks into bloom,
Despite the seasons of change.
The sepals slowly uncoil
and the petals shyly uncurl.

Into each life, as agony gusts,
Into each heart, as teardrops fall,
There comes a moment,
When raindrops turn to thunder.
There comes a season,
When blizzard turns to blaze,
As the pain seems neither solid nor distinct.

The heart that entered a spiritual winter,
Now feels the summer blaze,
As every seed begins to thrust
Its beauteous bloom in air.
The heart that bore agony becomes ornate again.
As the gardening gets wild,
The heart unfolds as a cluster of petals.
From deep inside, the agony begs, a seed sprouts;
And a hanging cluster ripens in bloom.

The untilled soil gets tilled again,
As I plough through the seasons of life,
To dig deep the beauty, the blessings and lessons of life.
My roots run deep in the soil so tilled,
As on the landscape that I travel, my river runs deep.

The moments with life begin to bud,
After the long and frosty winter.
My heart that slogged through the thickest grief,
Seems to shyly bloom again.
Such is my agony that ripens into joy,
So, I glow like a beauty in the throng.

I am the soul, unfolding in life,
I am the heart that creates an art,
To fill the needs and travel beyond surface.
I am the soul who carries,
the gentleness of petals, the pricking of thorns,
I am the poet who paints through words,
The emotions that speak inside the heart.

I am the dancer who finds a grace,
Through the sweetest rhythm of life.
I am the singer who finds a melody,
Despite the wilting of the rose in me.

My heart that entered the spiritual winter,
Saw the gleaming glaze again.
As sunlight gilded the river of eyes,
The shimmering gem shines again,
To reveal the truth in a deeper intensity.
The light that shimmers in the dark deeps of life,
The river that flows in the deepest hunger of life,
Leaves behind the eternal truth-
Pain is a bud opening in the lullabies of spring,
Every agony bottled inside, releases the bottled wine of life.
From every broken heart, rises the growing garland of blooms,
From every dancing chaos, rises the speaking stillness of wisdom.




......Jayita Bhattacharjee