Skip to main content

OH, POETRY! by Vrinda Aguilera

Poetry is a mystical process for me....

When I fully surrender myself unto it, I find myself immersed in a creative process that engages my entire being- my mind, body, and spirit. The mystery of this practice is that while a poem may come from me, it is also simultaneously independent of me. There is an unknown, otherworldly aspect that also lends and injects itself into this dance with words.  

I sometimes experience this creative energy as a mysterious personality who has many different moods and faces, who sweeps me away on adventures and transformational journeys. She, for I have given her a feminine persona, takes on the essence of whatever it is I need. Thus, she is powerful, comforting, seductive, graceful, and so much more. 

How variegated is the wide range that can be found in the human experience- from the agonizing depths of deep despair to the dizzying high of great heights, and everything in between.  It is precisely this ability to suffer and enjoy in so many unique ways that makes us who we are- spiritual beings having human experiences. 

As a practitioner of bhakti yoga, devotional loving service to the Supreme, developing and cultivating personal, loving, relationships are the ends as well as the means to reaching the highest platform of love of God. For me, poetry is a means to such an end. 

Oh, poetry- you capture my heart and stir my soul. 

Oh, Poetry!
Oh, poetry, you thing of beauty.
Waiting in the shadows,
Your formless face veiled.
Humbly, patiently kneeling in servitude.
A gentle and chaste handmaiden 
Cloaked and enshrouded in gauzy robes of ether

Oh, Poetry! You wicked seductress.
Shape shifting mistress of dusk, dawn
And the unclaimed spaces in between.
With your wild, untamed tresses
Your flashing glances smolder and burn.
You are insatiable, greedy
Ravaging and consuming me
With your relentless needs and demands.

You, my poetry! You’re a graceful dancer.
Flowing, dipping, twirling, whirling
Mesmerizing your partner and audience alike.
Glimpses of milky white shoulders, 
delicate arched neck
Your movements are hypnotic and enchanting. 
Such is your magic, your spell
That each think they, alone, sway in your embrace.

Poetry! You are a swollen ocean wave,
An embodiment of nature’s power. 
The force and strength of 1000 barreling freight trains,
Unstoppable and indiscriminate in your destruction.
Your white, foam-flecked peaks
Like the frothy beard of a rabid dog.
At times I have been caught in your swell,
Tossed about helplessly like a rag doll.
Half drowned yet half alive.

Poetry. You are a mother to me,
I, a newborn babe cradled in your arms.
Holding me close to your ample, comforting bosom
You smell faintly of milk and roses.
Gently shush shushing,
I am lulled into a state of drowsy contentment
As we rock in a worn cushioned chair
Back and forth, back and forth,

At times, poetry, you are like a razor sharp dagger
Lethal, unsheathed and without a scabbard
If I grasp you roughly,
You pierce and slice.
Leaving your signature, an angry, red sear.
‘Handle with care,’ is what you tell me
If I wish to use your pointed tip as a surgeon’s tool,
Lancing the toxic boils that poison and pollute my soul.

Sometimes I cannot find you, poetry.
Alone and wistful I am left wondering,
Have you forsaken me?
Then, there you are!
Peeking mischievously out from around the corners of my words
Playfully, you have been hiding 
You throw your head back and laugh in mirth.
My friend. We hold hands and run off to play.

Poetry, you are my angel.
You float down on soundless wings.
I cannot look at you directly when you are like this
You are suffused with and emanate a radiant, blinding light.
You help me forget everything else
And become one with my prayers.
A divine messenger, you carry my love to my Lord.
Tunneling through passageways hidden in the innermost recesses of my heart.
Salty tears seep out of the corners of my eyes in gratitude,
I hide my face in shyness.

Vrinda Aguilera is a Montessori trained primary school teacher, an intuitive energy healer, a closet poet, and practitioner of bhakti-yoga. She is passionate about supporting women on their spiritual journey and is a professionally trained life-coach. She lives in rural Florida with her husband and three children where she blossoms in the experience of her own mothering. You may connect with her by e-mailing her at:

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


  1. Ah! As you know, my dear, I can certainly relate to the individual experiences you describe in each of the above stanzas: this writing force that originates within us, and yet has a power outside of us as well, and with whom we have a very active, ever-changing, rather complex relationship! Something about the rawness of the fourth stanza really draws me in. As I read through your poem, I think to myself that each verse is like a little seed for eight more individual poems! But I am getting greedy now. ;)) Thank you for yet another beautiful offering!

  2. Beautiful're so good at that, Krishna Kanta....

  3. I absolutely adore this love song. Poetry is all of this, brought to life through your words.<3


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I AM STILL HERE by Janavi Held


This was composed by a very gifted and beautiful soul: a regular contributor to our poetry project, and dear friend of mine, Janavi Held, whose life is gradually being taken from us by an incurable illness. She has been suffering from Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and Internal Adhesions for six painful years now, and neither her insurance nor the government healthcare will help her. She reaches out to us, her sisters, as a last plea. This is a poem she wrote yesterday on her birthday, in which she offers us the gift of her friendship. May it touch your generous hearts and inspire you to reach out to her in her plight.

Dear Friends,

The last time I was able to leave the house was by ambulance on my way to the hospital. After many long hours in the emergency room I was admitted and taken upstairs. After everyone left I sat on the hospital bed, knees to chest, bracing my body against the pain and trembling.

The light of this cold day was fading. I turned my eyes to the la…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…