Two Paths…

Two paths I see
one obscure, one so clear
one shrouded in mystery
one filled with fear
What is it you want, Life?
You bring me Here
time and time again?
To fulfil vows that
I never made or meant?
Each step takes me
farther and farther away
from every dream
I ever dared and dreamt?
How is it that the farther I go
from all that I am meant to be
the closer I find myself to being Me?

Becoming…

She became what she was to become
rustling, rushing
capering in mischief
sometimes soft and warm
wrapping around the whole being
sometimes working up a storm
wild enough to shake the will.
combing through leaves and branches
setting off music and magic
whipping, bowing branches
bending mighty trees to her will
sometimes she played and tumbled
in the humble grass.
she hummed, she roared
she sang, she moaned
in joy of becoming herself.

No longer was she a river
banked and bounded
thirsting for futile Union
rushing into the embrace
of the mighty ocean
taking with her a little bit
of every land she crossed
never saying no to the umpteen
filth and follies of people
living on her shores
muddying her eddies and waves

now she flowed and frolicked
over river, oceans and mountains
unfettered, boundary-less
flowing up and down
with equal ease
for no other reason than to please
and fulfil herself
she stopped nowhere
nothing stopped her
uncontained, uncontainable
taking nothing, owning nothing
she belonged nowhere, to none
she became wild and free
She became…
… the Wind.

a Tigress story…

she was always restless
this Tigress of mine
pacing endlessly
bouncing off walls and bars
tighly locked within
all keys thrown away.

threatening to shake
the very foundations
of structures too weak
to withstand
her sublimal, primal,
repressed energies

befriend her. talk to her.
let her free.
they say.

but how can I?
there is no place for her
in my rational, compartmentalized
pseudo-world…
cubicled containers
of whats and hows
doneses and not-doneses
where tigresses need to exist
but only this way and that.

she needs acres of freedom
this Tigress mine…
to streak across
my soulscapes
flaming orange. fierce.
potent. proud.

i am faced with choices.
to live in this world
where We – my tigress and I
have no place Here
and there is no other There either.
if there was one,
I would take it.

so I have transformed her
a metaphorical Hobbes
to my caustic Calvin.
a caricature that
still seemingly exists…

her fiery oranges hues
now a manageable ochre
her claws little lumps of cotton-balls
her strange, powerful eyes
now mere shiny buttons
her toothless smile
threatens no one – not even me.

a ghost now – she only
haunts my dreams.