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,
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: vrinda.aguilera@gmail.com
~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!~
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!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful imagery...you're so good at that, Krishna Kanta....
ReplyDeleteI absolutely adore this love song. Poetry is all of this, brought to life through your words.<3
ReplyDelete