The Colors of the Wind...

" You can own the Earth and still

   All you'll own is Earth until

   You can paint with all the colors of the wind "

It's uncanny to believe that Pocahontas knew of the "colors of the wind" at that young an age.

As I share my poem "Messages from Afar", I come to realize what the "colors of the wind" mean and why they are so important to us in life...

The ancient wind swept across my face tonight,

While I sauntered down the memory lane,

It was laden heavy with tidings in flight

That had travelled afar from the verdant plains.

Nearly fifteen thousand miles it blew over

And pervaded every stretch of land I trod,

And also the land beyond the Delphic borders

Whose stories I had heard at my cradle abode.

And it whispered softly into my ears

To unload the memories it brought from home, 

And a nonchalance greeted the breezy zephyr

As it dashed to waltz around the mountain dome.

And the wind filled me with a sense of belonging

On wherever I wandered in search of warmer climes,  

Be it El Dorado or virginal surroundings

The wind was its keeper since the relics of time. 

Somewhere, That Light Still Burns On...

Today, is the second birthday of my blog - Kushan's Musings...

Over the past two years, few of my nascent reflections have grown mature while few continue to be in a blossoming phase as I embark on a new journey of the highway of life and my first stop happens to be Kelley School of Business...

The candle for my blog's first birthday, helped me discover the world in a new light.

And today I don't need to light another candle, for "somewhere, that light still burns on..."

I walked unafraid into the net,

Woven by the moon on the starless night,

For the shackles would melt with a tiny droplet

Of scarlet red from the veins of light.

That night, I dreamt of a hue of colors

Hidden beneath a dark pretense of somber,

But I still caught a glimpse of the radiant glitters

Despite night's efforts to veil that splendor.

And the road to the rainbow was long and dark

And cleaved through a grand wilderness of doubt,

But there was gold at the end of the rainbow arch

And its luster could drive the darkness out.

And through the night I kept following my dream

And was greeted by a blinding light at dawn,

A fleeting moment, when the night had appeared to stifle the beam  

For somewhere that light still burns on.