Pain

Somatic, or
Of the heart
From a measly pin-prick
Or from a lover's dirty trick
Provoking deep fear
Or just a wince and a tear
Pain is a strain
Pulling hard
On soul's fabric
But untouched,
And unruffled 
My yoked self, at best
Is just stretching out
In its furtive quest


Dazzled by matter's multitude
By the zillion colours of photonic beats
And random sounds that somehow meet
To concoct hollow meanings in my head
A bit of me pushes its will
Sets its own goals
In conflict with my soul
Making me a worldly mortal
But the poet in me knows
I am just trapped
Like a message in a bottle

For the sake of gain
I train, and
Counter my pain
I climb notch upon notch
Score more, and yet more
In search of the prize
In the game of super-size
But in the fate's unfeeling gale
I trail…and I fail
Tired….I lose my fire…
And desire…

Then a yogi
Shows me Me
A poet in a sealed bottle
Is only what I see
Slowly, I learn again to breathe
In my desire's dying fire
I find a fading spark
On it I gently blow
And watch it slowly glow
As I focus and flow
My body eases
I merge with the poet
I am stretched no more
Now one with my pain
I welcome each strain
And watch the tensions iron out
The karmic folds
On the fabric of my soul

© Jitendra Khanna 2006