Thursday, November 8, 2007


Behold a child, a painting, a film, a poem,
A common thread runs thru all of them
The thread intended by divine sanction
Anointed as the act of creation

It all begins with a thought,
Seeking what was never sought
And then begins the courtship with the elements
Leading each other thru blind alleys n mysterious scents
All the time intended to magnify the desperation
It’s the greatest act of deception- this flirtation

And then comes the moment of clarity when all the pretense falls,
The body, the canvas, the reel, the paper fervently calls
For its significant other to come and surrender
To the needs of the self as well as each other

But alas, nothing has a clear start in this spherical globe,
So in the dark room, mind n soul, one has to grope n probe
And shyly, after many fits, starts and weird accidents,
The beginning is reached much to the joy of the elements

And then come suddenly, as the tsunami did,
The anxiety and relief, both dark n splendid.
The anxiety for the success of every moment that follows the present
The relief for the success of every moment that precedes the present

And passion rages on as the elements collide with a force so furious
It can make our dear physicists really really curious
The act is sometimes a war, sometimes a rebellion,
Sometimes love, sometimes life, sometimes oblivion
It is domination, bringing the other to submission,
It’s also submission, giving the other the joy of domination

The violence of a kiss, a stroke, a rhythm, a word,
Can put to shame the mace of the greatest warlord
And still the gentleness of a caress, a hue, a smile, a rhyme
Can unemploy our angels and saints and turn them to crime

It is the most selfish of acts and still its something more
It’s the greatest appreciation of God’s art – in the texture and color

And the suddenly, as if one can surprise one’s own being,
As if it were an illusion dat the central nervous system controls everything
As if some unknown reservoir of power is unearthed,
Untouched, unravaged, unspoilt but unattended
The elements reach the climax of beauty, of union, of perfection
This is the Act of Creation

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