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 I write what I see. |
| New year begins with hopes. I wish to write at least a Blog post per day. |
| The Uncertain Enmity Bhodhisattwa Parakh Shadows shift where the line was drawn. Whose banner is that now? The map feels wrong. My sword hand hesitates mid-swing. Are we fighting or just standing still? The target blurs, a familiar face I almost know. Silence hangs heavily. A question mark in the dust. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
Nature And Us Bodhisattwa Parekh Slow down, the dewdrops will wait. Don't rush the leaf edge. Taste the green fully. The world rushes fast, a blur to the quick. We see the small wonders, the moss velvety soft. Your trail is your own, a silvered slow map. No need for speed, child. Patience is our sunshine. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
How To Blow Bodhisattwa Parekh A smooth, wooden thing fits my palm. I raise it slowly. A single note; no bird could sing. The wind stops breathing. A forgotten door creaks open. Wide. Where does it lead? I only know how to blow again. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
| Those Tense Moments Bodhisattwa Parekh Dust motes dance. The sun beats down. That one, a red-eyed bull, appeared. They feel anxiety. They watched a low rumble. Not just the crowd. The bull passes them hurriedly. Without caring for them, they take a breath. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
That Moment Bodhisattwa Parekh I lost my total balance. I suddenly turn to anti-gravity direction. So, the floor is now like a ceiling. The normal path twists strangely and steeply. My head is going downward. A moment of this dizziness Then maybe The world will be right again. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
A Fresh, Bright Curve Bodhisattwa Parekh A side branch stretches, Green reaching light. The main trunk stands firm. But this new shoot dances. It tells a different story. A whisper of the wood. Not the heartwood, But a fresh, bright curve. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
Uncertain Bodhisattwa Parekh Edges become blurred. Against the pale wall. Not quite human. Or not a not even a tree. A tall lean dirty, Breathing stillness where the streetlamp dies. It waits, it just waits, with no clear face. A trick of the light, maybe. or something else. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
A Fantasy Dream Bodhisattwa Parekh Wings of spun moonlight lifted me high. Below, a silent city of glass and shadow. A silver river sang secrets. To a sleeping stone. I touched a star. It dissolved like mist. You appear there. Then, again, disappeared. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
The Way of My Healing Bodhisattwa Parekh A serene path beneath old oaks, A familiar bend in the river. They call me back, but with a soft hum, A melody only my heart loves. When the noise of the day presses down, and my bones want some rest, I close my eyes. The melody plays a gentle and an endless tune. It smooths the rough edges, this beloved landscape singing low. And I am healing again. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
The Observation Bodhisattwa Parekh Earth's weeping, a cool blessing on the dry skin of the world. It holds on to this ancient paste, absorbing the light. We step through it, our soles sinking, a brief surrender to shaping power. Cleansing the way, washing the dust of urgency from our hurried steps. I thought it was just dirt mixed with rain, a temporary stain on the path. But when I finally washed my hands cleanly, I watched as the imprint of my soul remained. Already hardening into stone. Lines: 8 Topic ▶︎ |
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