An Ode to 2018

Pic : Self

…and so
I take leave,

leaving you
with memories,

of things
you percieved,

as good
or as bad,

as happy
or sad,

my intention
was to better you,

in all the ways
that you are,

the highs
and the lows,

are just waves
in the seas,

but you
my friend,

are the ocean
deep,

the sun
the moon,

only play
deceptions,

on the
surface,

of your
sensitive skin,

my job
however,

was to delve
into you beyond,

the joys
and the pain,

that you’ll
remember me with,

are my
redemption,

and my
bondage,

to you
till you remain,

neither
was intentional,

for neither
were my goals,

my sole purpose
was always,

to lift
you,

higher
than you are,

my success
or failiure,

remains
dependent on you,

and I hope
someday,

you’ll remember me
with fondness,

from the pinnacle
of who you become.

© vidursahdev 2018

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f r e e

ice-sculpture.jpg

As the ice sculpture melted,
the water was once again
free to be.

Time,
had not
frozen
along with it,
but neither
had it
been able to
alter its
essence.

And so it flowed
as it had,
once again.

©Vidur Sahdev 2017

t w i n s

vases.jpg

 

twin vases
the same potter,
unsuspecting clay
beaten
kneaded
hand molded,
sun dried
wood fired
in kiln,
painted
coated
a liquid glaze,
fired again
to achieve
the protective
skin.

now stand
displayed
on a comparative
stage,
one smooth
inspite
of its
chronicled age,
untarnished
luminous
its gleaming
glaze.

the other
veined
with numerous
cracks,
held together
by the
sheer will
to survive,
tiny spaces
exposed crevices
artistically
filled,
with strokes
of love
from random
hearts.

one,
impeccable
in its
stature,
still shiny
almost
seeming
immortal.

the other,
rustic
mystic
worn,
but full
of stories
of life
to tell.
———

Vidur
30Jan17

D a m n e d

Venus De Milo.jpg
Venus De Milo by Alexandros of Antioch

Alone in a corner
amongst famous art
stood a sculpture
with broken arms
gathering dust
from the
daily visitor treads
the dreaded cover
now aged
with cracks
unable to stop
the flying specs
but beneath
the ignored dusty stone
lay a beating heart
wishing on the hands
that carved her so
to magically mend
this incapacitated plight.

In the darkness
that defined
every lonely night
one full moon
heard her yearning sigh
with a chuckle
not only did it
put back the two
but added to them
a hammer
and a chisel
leaving the stone
it said
with a smile –
your heart is good
now work with
these repaired two
for now
they too have
the gift of life.

It was strange
for the stone
to have moving arms
but she knew
there was a reason
for that
liberating night
lights out
doors locked
the sound
of the hammer
in cahoots
with the chisel
became a daily
secretive exercise
she chipped
and she chipped
adding her bits
to the accumulated
dust around.

By the time
they came with their
‘beyond repair
so sentenced to death’
the cover
had crumpled
the dust was gone
at her feet lay
a weary hammer
a worn out chisel
she had changed
herself so
that even they
who knew her once
seemed so sure
this was not
that work of art
which had been
written off
as damned to die.

——————–

Vidur
01Dec16