Gratitude Attitude

 

IMG_7251

Photo Credit: Vikram Phale

My gratitude is not my weakness
My softening at heart not my meekness

My gratitude was once my survival
My breaking down was emerge & arrival

My gratitude is now my treasure
My attitude by which I measure

My gratitude is actually my strength
My existence made magnificent at length

My gratitude propels my life velocity
My refuge it is to contain life’s intensity

My gratitude is not my neediness
My choice it is to stay connected with Oneness

 

P.S. Dear Debbie, please accept this Gratitude poem as a contribution to ForgivingFridays

Advertisements

Living Life Head On

IMG-20170815-WA0004

Take on the Waves by Pragalbha Doshi

When the life waves
Of agony and despair
Rise high in the air

Take them head on
For once, instead of
Escaping ashore until gone

The most arduous choice
Often results in
The most amazing rejoice

Let the wave wash over
A gift of clarity
It will cleansingly shower

A trust that is your inner knowing
Keeps you grounded
While as if almost drowning

Find yourself after
Like-never-before standing
Surviving and refreshfully thriving

 

P.S. Dear Debbie, please accept this poem as my contribution to ForgivingFridays.

Ever Been a Seed like this? Ever Seen a Flower like this?

Sunshine AndARose

Rose and Sunshine by Vikram Phale

A seed, gets buried in an avalanche of soil. The soil is rich, impregnated with all the life juice and organic energy for the seed to use. The seed though, suffocates and struggles  in the darkness and compactness of being buried.
It knows it will survive …not sure how.

It finds in itself the innate ability to absorb, the nutrients and moisture available around. Something starts to happen as the seed starts getting soaked.
It begins to change …not sure how.

Ever wonder how the change feels to the seed?

So much of breaking up, as it transforms. So much of a stir, before it finally learns to feel the softening. The tremendous endurance before it feels the surrender…

The seed sprouts a shoot. The shoot is so puzzled as it begins to break out of the surface of the ground. It quivers as the first air brushes on it. It faces the brightness of the very first light. It is held up …not sure how.

Ever know what this feels like?

The shoot grows stronger, taller. Head high, seeing all around very clearly.
It blooms. Into a delicate, pretty, beautiful flower. It is crimson and pink all over. It is just Being. Just Being what it had come to become. Not knowing about beautiful or happy or anything.

The flower suddenly gets jolted out of Being. It has a question. “Am I arrogant?
They are saying, I am beautiful and pretty … Am I arrogant?”
It feels the judgment ..not sure how.

Ever wonder about why the embarrassment about what you are blessed with Being?

The flower looks down, to the soil. “I know” it says, “I am up here only because of your nourishment, all that you gave me. I still have my roots in you …will always have my roots in you, as long as I live …roots of my gratitude”. It hears a message back from the soil, “We never said you owe us!”

Ever wonder how different we are as humans, when we serve, just because we were able to?

The flower ponders, “I am up here …all beautiful and pretty. I will be Beauty to the eye that sees me, Fragrance for the one who smells me …as long as I just Be.
Then one day my petals will fall away, one by one. I will no longer be the flower, pretty and beautiful, up here soaking in the sunshine. I will become part of  the soil, to nourish another flower to bloom. I will get a chance to give back then.”
It feels content …a bit sure how.

With a happy smile, the flower looks down at it’s stalk …its connection to the soil and nourishment. It gets puzzled to see thorns and leaves, that it did not see before.
It finds the answer it seeks …not sure how.

The leaves help it absorb the intensity of the sunshine.
The thorns …the thorns …there is sadness on seeing the thorns.
With the morning dew drops as tears, the flower says …”I am sorry I have thorns. I am done being broken down! Don’t touch me, Now I have thorns!!”

“The wounds of the seed as it transformed, to help me be born, I still carry in my soul.”

“I am told I also have a name …Rose is what I am called. I am not sure what all that is about …I am just here as temporarily as you are. I will stand tall and beautiful and pretty as long as you look at me …until I simply fall away …one petal at a time …to return and become the richness of the soil”

Ever wonder how the beauty feels to the flower?

Innocence & its faces

Innocence is the face of a baby born
So also that of a person reborn
Each one has faced the struggle
To show up in the world

In their painful journey of birthing & re-birthing
Gut wrenching twisting and turning
Courage and surrender both have shown
To be able to breathe
And cry a cry of relief

That innocence has known survival
Not a scent of the vices of the world
The reborn must keep the intent
The purity if they wish to retain
To be alive & born to new moments
To die to each that has gone by …

We are blessed with many rebirths
In this lifetime alone
Smile and welcome each one with joy!