Consciousness, Literature and the Arts

 

Archive

 

 

Volume 13 Number 2, August 2012

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Poems

by

Barine Saana Ngaage

 

            Aspire

 

Earth  crawls,  recedes and  breaks

Soul taxis, lifts and soars

High, stretching its hand

 

Silence comes minutely

Dark shapes fade away, assemble, disappear

Awesome silence comes into space

Offering bodies communion:

A kiss of white and purple colours meet

On a plane for an equation of double

 breathe totals singularity

 

Soul returns from luminous oneness

Into its shelter on earth;

It recoils, settles like an eagle

Onto a lower plane for rest.

 

 

                     Hide Names at Night

 

                  Belief                                                                                            

knits humanity into a basket

of names that creates spaces of identity

 

                  Night

Carries fear on the wings of belief

Knocking on human doors for identity

 

                   Silence

Locks doors against the snatcher of lives who

Returns from chasing sheltered souls.

 

 

     Sarasvasti

 

Poems grow out from roots

Of the past in cool and warm climates

Which give birth to twins –

White and black colours are woven

Into the beauty of rainbow men.

 

They are a harvest of a basket of culture

From ancient striving of wits;

Culture is evergreen wheel on rotation

Round the year for harvest.

 

Unheard music tunes souls to silence

That is pregnant with thoughts.

It rhymes with fire taking breath of

Heard music of creativity.

Yellow clothes express love and wealth

For  Sarasvasti  in season of harvest;

Arts take new shapes and tastes on

Dynamic branches of culture like the

Nutrients of the tree climb from

Roots to branches unseen till maturation.

 

 

           Nirvana

 

One is dressed in anti-rainbow

Layers of self at birth;

Time and effort shed off self from the

Heart, on one’s journey waiting for

time and effort to skin Off envy

in course of the earth-ward life.

 

One waits for the divine search

Like a ready runner of a race

Listening to the music of the soul;

One sheds off ignorance for

Knowledge of nirvana, leaving

Shackles of waste that weigh

Millions of dusty pounds behind,

Climbing the ladder of purity.

 

The spiritual mind shines like the

New skin of a snake from incubation

Ready for higher ascension beyond

Self, a heavy bag that drags the soul

Back from quick motion of liberty.

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