Pendulum

Beliefs sway back and forth
on the pendulum of uncertainty.
Within the torn tapestry of war,
we rediscover new threads of relationships.

Longing for a glint of the crescent moon,
on bruised grey-blue skies,
we catch a precious dream- filled cat nap,
between startling alerts and alarms.

Like a fulfilling sip of coffee
on a rushed stressful workday.
or a hushed full deep breath,
amidst a fast- paced running race…

Jets no longer display
colourful trails for an airshow.
We long for innocent paper planes,
to hold onto our faith and memories.

Smoke disguised as clouds
creates an illusion of normalcy.
But the sky quietly weeps at dawn,
washing down the trauma of last night.

Clueless kids happily call it rain
in today’s child-friendly reality.
Yet somewhere in between inhumane acts,
life continues to reveal little moments of empathy.

Uncaged

This was a bird
who walked into a cage,
naively, on her own,
and chose to stay there.

The doors of her confines
had always been open.
Yet, she never dared to step out,
or even tried to flap her wings.

No one to stop her, but her apathy,
gripped with fear and ignorance.
She never cared to taste
what waited right at her doorstep.

Many caged birds continue to sing
desperate songs of freedom,
but the uncaged bird
knew not how to sing!

She had never stretched her wings,
nor learnt how to use her voice.
Too comfortable in her mediocre existence,
she had wasted her prospect of flight.

A never-opened mind to possibilities,
is an ignored chance of empowerment.
For the prison of fearfulness and inaction,
is far too thick a trap to break.

Which bird are you?
Have you ever questioned the pattern?
Are you brave enough to break the rules
to knock down generational karmic shackles…

:: This poem questions all those women who choose a mediocre existence over empowerment. They come from an educated family, a free country, with no restrictions. They can wear whatever they wish and step out of the house at will. They get many opportunities to become a better version of themselves. Yet, they choose to be lazy, inactive , do nothing special and just waste their time in a worthless journey of financial dependence.

After many such typical uncaged women in every family of repetitions, once in a generation, comes one different young woman from a contrasting background - the rule breaker, who questions and changes regressive family patterns forever!

Afternoon

In the perfectly cool shadows
of a late February afternoon,
neither too harsh like the midday sun,
nor too mellow like the evening,
the pergola casts a poised pattern
on the sun- washed walls.

Bougainvillea spreads her spiky arms
with pink- painted manicured fingers.
The world can stay busy,
but the leaves and buds are resting.
Like the cats in the sunbeams,
meditating on the rhythm
of their own tapping tail tips.

There's something so poetic
about Ramadan afternoons,
especially when coordinated
with the month of spring!

:: Afternoon is the fourth addition to this series of my earlier three poems - My Morning, Night and Evening :: 

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-morning.html

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2017/05/evening.html

https://quiethappiness-tasha.blogspot.com/2012/12/night.html