Helpless in Orbit

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The mystic’s marvel
a storyteller’s delight
a scientist’s fact
that a poet distorts.
Floating free, yet held
by an invisible force.
A broken, barren surface
holding countless hearts
Appearing, disappearing
without a will of its own,
The illusionary show
of a face that
remains the same
but appears different
in another’s shadow.
The ball that glows
in a borrowed light,
yet seldom complains
of its helpless plight.
The sight that inspires
a memory of the beloved,
it’s presence a must
for the goriest folklore.
From the blade of a knife
drawing blood to feed a desire,
To a tooth or a claw
that turns red on its prey,
From a pen that writes
after a dip in the red
of the heart,
To the tear
that falls quietly
in the solitude of the night,
From the eyes
that see its magic
To the blinds
that shut it out,
The secret liaisons
amongst unnamed shadows,
the meeting of hearts
the passions of the night,
the acts of cowardice
against their own
by those that lurk
with a diminished
damaged internal light,
It has no choice
but to witness it all.
When day breaks
it is banished
out of sight
lest it succumb
to temptation
and let out the secrets
the stories that scream
to see the light of day
but buried in darkness
will never be told.
And the mystic smiles
at the thought of it
for the power
of this helpless form
he alone knows,
What hides in light
within and without,
comes alive
when darkness falls,
And sometimes if
it is in the mood
the magical moon-light
brings to the fore
even that, which tries to hide
in the deepest depths
of the darkest night.
—————————–

Vidur
29July2015

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Author: vidur sahdev

Living life...as it comes!

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