Poetry Forecast —
“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”
Words fall from the sky
into my just awake mind,
onto the consciousness
of my new day’s dawn.
I lean back my head and
and drink that rain
like magical champagne.
Some days they sprinkle.
Some days they pour.
Some days storms rage
and tear like hurricanes
across my blank page.
It is not something
I can command or control.
It is how poems begin.
It is imagination’s source,
the climate of creativity,
the sense in the nonsense,
possibility in impossibility.
It slakes my thirst
for more than mundane,
makes life matter
beyond money and pain.
My task: turn what falls
from words into patterns,
write the drops down,
try to make them mean,
and then
wake up every day
and do it all again,
wait for that weather,
pray for that rain.
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Art as a way of survival —
Every day we
struggle and compete,
experience loss,
live with dissatisfaction.
Strife dominates life.
A little ease, please.
Music, painting, poetry
may break the mundane,
provide a moment’s respite,
shake up the brain,
make us new again,
able to see another road,
experience a vision,
empathize with the Other,
find a possible path
through the politics
of our daily pain.
Art is one way
to persist and resist.
It needs no other
reason to be.
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—–Have Hope. Keep Faith—–
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ECLIPSEDWORDS BY AISHWARYA SHAH | MARCH’2019 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©
Brilliant
Excellence! Your mind is so very bright!
Words fall like rain
Some days soft as snowflakes
Other days like raucous thunder
But never without wonder. Yours are wonder-filled, indeed!
Very nice! I especially love the Art is Survival. So true 🙂
Very profound! Thanks for sharing!
Beautiful words..Great Job!! 👍👍
Sahiii hai!
Very pretty finds!
Very powerful, I especially liked the first poem.
An artist and a poet, so versatile. Such rich lives will never be mundane.
Well written
Art as expression is easy for some, to make a living is a challenge since so few really make it. You can visit numerous sites and read excellent work in poetry which deserve a wider audience. I like the poem on rain. I remember reading when younger that the Inuit people have about 30 words for snow, we have a similar number for rain in England 🙂