Wednesday, June 20, 2007

The Tigress Of The Mist

Sedated are his senses, by her fragrance entranced,
Lingering in his memory, his senses she commands,
Intoxicated by the scent of her persona, he wanders
Vagabond his spirit, through the mist meanders.
Emerging from the haze then, into the night,
Revealing himself to the Huntress’s sight.
Slowly the clouds engulf her in that moment,

Obscuring, as if a dream her presence, in an instant.
Frozen, a crystal, in his mind that glimpse embeds,

To enrich his thoughts eternally, her memory never fades.
Higher he ascends into the ether she perfumed,
Enamoured he remains, by her charisma, consumed.

Seeking her, he ventures forth, into the forest of dreams,
Allured into its milieu, by these unending streams.
Flowing perennial through this realm illusive,
Flowering in it, such blossoms, exclusive.
Rewarded by the adventures this journey has presented,
Offering him those experiences, that fantasy has created.
Never losing sense, of the passion he pursues,

Surrendering to the huntress alone, he continues.
Under the foliage of imagination, that is the forest,
Nurtured by the aspirations of each measure purest.

Onwards the forest, into the mist dissolves,
Near yet far, he stares as the summit evolves

Solitary he roams, no destination in sight,
Invisible to his eyes, she leads him to light,
Leaving the wonders, in which his senses delight.
He hears in the distance, sounds of the spray splash,
Onto the coast as those, tumultuous waves crash.
Underneath those waves, lies the sea’s tranquility,
Entering into this world, he imbibes its oceanic quality.
The immensity of that silence disperses thought,
The nothingness, the void, the presence, that is naught.
Evaporating into the air the ocean transforms,
Suddenly, into a fog, that transcends through the storms.

Observing in nature such eccentricity,
Fathoming in the depth, its, simplicity.

Through this cloud, again he perceives her,
Her scent, her voice, her spirit; so near.
Elation resurfaces from within his soul,

Surging through him, once again he feels whole.
His passions were but, the duties of his desire,
An insight, she gifted, as a magical souvenir.
Duty and passion complete each other,
One shall drive while, the other deliver.
Wisps of the mist now caress his face,
Softly it surrounds him in an icy embrace.

Sublimely the vapour transforms and blends,
Into the mist he merges, a new dimension transcends.
Lost in an abstraction, the huntress, he has sought, in
Every realm sensed, by his perception and thought.
Now enveloped in the ether, the truth to him dawns
The huntress accompanies as his soul companion.

© Jwalant Dave, 2007.


nauka said...

oh ma god!!!!!.............i didnt speak while reading it!.............thats your biggest achievement! took me to ma best" time

Kanan said...

Oh I've never seen any one play with words
How do you do it? The pen is mightier than the sword

With the emotions that are stirred, indescribable
Only for the passionate minds, it’s comprehensible
What I need now is my dictionary for it is so inevitable;


~ a said...

i found your link on one of the papers at home, it was a poem that you'd written.. reading this is like walking through the path that he must've tread, and experiencing the awe of the rhythm.. what i love most is the flow of the words which go so rhythmically and naturally as if there were no other way they could be. :) lovely read!

Sangita Padiyar said...

If I knew I'd stumble upon something so beautiful, I'd have been an ardent blogger.

Your creation left on me a smile, a knowing smile.

I love the way you've played with words, almost like toys you'd used as a child.

Lovely read indeed.

Sangita Padiyar said...

For some reason, this reminded me of Ted Hughes poem, The Thought-Fox.

robertsoup said...

Asked some of my students to bring "cryptic poems" to class, and through the wonders of Google a number of them brought this one. Pretty cool work, I gotta say...

ajju said...

Awesome thoughts jd.. :-)

Sushama Karnik said...

Awesome!I have no words!You have exhausted all of them and yet left me with a desire to feel the power of language and its magic again and again.