Where does your mind go When it's just wandering around? What sights come forward? What fragrances, what sounds? Do you go backwards into times before? Wish they were reality as they once were. Or do you dream forward? Wishes not yet met. Make plans of their coming true. How would it be if it was that? How happy are you when your mind wanders off? Does it journey into joy or into anxiety or pain? Journeys of the mind. Battles we fight. No one else knows how hard is the strife. Do you speak of your fears With someone you trust Or stay silent and conquer With self power alone? Where does your mind go when it's just wandering around? What sights come forward? What fragrances, what sounds?
It happens every night but one night I was also there. To see the magic of the lights As they lit up the Cathedral square. After dark, when night had fallen, in the forests and the mountains. The city hums an enchanted air under street lights and every corner. Cars whizzed past to unknown places. Their smoky tail-lights blazing red. Buildings stand behind in their splendour Electric blue or Grün or Gelb. A magical city The ancient Vindobona And me, one night in Vienna.
Stay silent. Watch. The crowds bray for blood. One by one they come for everyone. The good, the noble and the brave. All those who choose to rise above. Speaking out now, is in vain They hear not. All they know is hate. They know not what it takes to build. To grow To love To learn new things. So closed is their mind So small their life Anyone who is not a clone of them Is an enemy of the State. Presstitute and sickular, they crow in glee Words they think are very smart. Can they ever learn Secular The nobility of the real word? Then how can you expect Them to understand? And the crowds that bray for blood One by one they turn on everyone. Their need is to have someone to hate. Anyone will do. No matter who. Stay silent. Watch. And wait a better time. Some day their hate will turn on themselves Then your aggressor now might even be the crowd’s target next.
Leave a sign behind don't just go. Without a trace that you were here. Let that mark be, one of good. Giving strength to all who come from far and near. Leave thoughts that build. Deeds done that inspire. Be a force that binds, those who are coming behind. But if you can't do as above, then gently go. Quiet. Without a sign. Break not what you have not created Create not that in turn will divide. Tread your path. As we each must do (be it alone or together) Let it lead towards the light For darkness is not the path to follow. I'm preaching Yes, and I apologise! These times are such. With much food for thought. When you see a world you love Hurting and broken In turmoil so unjust. The mind wonders what needs be done Deeds that heal. That 'humane' touch
In my mind, in my hands, is the power to create. And the power to destroy. What I choose to do makes me the person I am. Centuries after centuries Cultures and religions Languages spoken, foods cooked and eaten. In all relations, do you make something? Or leave something broken? Call it good and evil. Call it right and wrong. Call it what you will. But that’s the one truth, that applies to us all. Follow this principle and you‘ll identify truth from false. Who talks of growth, upliftment, and room for all? Who talks of fear, conspiracies enemies in each unknown? Choose wisely and hold firm this single truth. Inclusion wins. As does good. Tell me now Which will you choose?
As i stand in my kitchen, cooking dinner for tonight. Fresh and warm and nourishing, comforting fragrant and so calming. I think of women just like me. Hiding underground, surrounded by family. As above ring out the sirens. Children cry in the darkness. Whose is this war? Why is it happening? So much power in one man‘s hands. What is man and what is mankind? Rather what kind of man would cause this misery? Is a man still a man if he goes against humanity? 21 centuries and more in fact, but civilization is still held hostage. Never learning, the biggest lesson learnt after invasions, that a war solves few, if any, problems. Dinner cooked, i check the seasoning, thinking of people tonight going hungry. Brave people fighting to defend their country. Heroes every one of them. Honour goes to those who show bravery. Those who build something, create peace and beauty. Not to crazies wanting glory And destroying instead fragile humanity.
On my palette dark and burnt and brown. Colours that remained After the greens were gone. Soaked up with the heat from every last ray of sun. So to offer hopes of warmth Now the year is done. In snow, sheet and wind, that Winters always bring, when it's all white or grey A brown so joyous is. Tree trunks emerging out from hollows That piled high with snow drifts are Tree trunks, their rich browns, a promise For season's change and greens that follow. When it's summer and Browns forgotten, pinks and yellows lead the way. Then I think back and on what's round the corner In winters it's Browns that make my day.
Hug a tree. Its bark warmed by sunlight. Hug a tree Its base softly damp with rain. Hug a tree As its leaves rustle above. Hug a tree And be at peace.
There was water There was air There was a perfect combination of elements. There was the ground on which I stood Soft and warm Quite wonderful. It is home It is Earth Beautiful Beyond every word. There are cities built by men Buildings tall as the replaced mountains So too are parks, gardens and greens Like forests or an Oasis Out in nature. Raw. Untouched. Or in towns. With people and stuff. A comfortable balance is the key. A mix of both. A world at peace.
Getting ready for winter's coming. Final songs of reds and gold. A warm farewell before the parting, because soon there will be snow. And cold. And cold. Leaves the colours of a rainbow. Skies the deepest blue. A joyous gift to hold on too, Because soon the whites will rule. And cold. And cold. Birds chirping extra sweet and loud. Gathering in flocks, To fly away. Winter draws closer and closer. And cold. And cold. Go out for long walks Anuradha. Pay attention to change around. Fill yourself with memories dear. In winters long evenings, their strength to draw. And warmth. And warmth.