A Headful of Thoughts, A Handful of Stars

A Headful of Thoughts, A Handful of Stars

Let me be, strange wanderer, ask me not
Questions that riddle my already burdened thoughts.
Keep away, show no pity, restrain the benevolent hand
From grasping these shoulders and making me stand
On my feet, by myself, alone- and yet lonely…
Two dimensions are these, though you think them one-toned. But free

only are those that can thrive amongst crowds,

That can stand by themselves, on their feet, bold and proud.
Not clouds of confusion or maelstroms of musing,
Not people who wither away into dither,
Not people who think of themselves, themselves only,
No. People like that are alone, but not lonely.
They soar the skies in their element blooming,
The grass evergreen, the sharp gusts of wind looming
Like shelters above them, protecting and serving,
Where courage be bright and their path be unswerving.
These people have hearts big enough to drown mountains-
Their all-encompassing joy flows in fountains.
Their eyes shine with steel, not with gold or with silver,
For brave and life-hardened they are. And a quiver
Of arrows cannot encompass their far-sight,
For though they aren’t visionaries, they see wrong and right.
They carve out their paths with chisel in stone,
And that’s what I mean when I say they’re alone.
For alone they must stand to lead the way forth
For future ideas and thoughts to take birth.
Their circle is largely miniscule in size
But their choice of companions should prove to be wise.
Their lives have been shorn and weathered away
By traitors – backstabbers- who with hearts do play.
And though they may not have forgiveness in heart,
These luminaries breathe fresh air into art-
The art that is life, and the art that is living,
Where respect and understanding comes before forgiving.
This art we can understand by actions that test
The fears and struggles that are at our behest.
Those judgmental riots of thought in my brain
Are turning into a headstrong high-risk train.
So I pray, dear stranger, you leave me be,
And move on to someone less distant, more free.
My head full of thoughts will do you no good;
All isn’t right under this minted hood.
My dreams do not spare the guilty and vile,
And I am worth not an ounce of a smile.
Away, wandering nomad, before I grow ired
And into a canyon throw your body mired.
Go forth to those mountains where cars don’t exist.
Stride slowly and carefully into the mist,
For the mist is an evil that’s silent and swift,
But hidden it shall keep you as you approach the rift.
And when you do cross to the rift’s other side….
Well, I must confess I know not of that life
For trials and troubles have pestered me sure
That I can no longer find strength to endure.
Complete for me then, my lifelong quest
And cross that wide rift with great cheer. I attest
For the last time, I need no help from your hand
For here I shall crumble into the gold-brown sand.
Farewell, and fear not the mind’s great wars.
Just welcome it, like a handful of stars.

 

 

Humans of society, thank you for reading. Anyone who enjoyed this poem, and especially if you live in India, feel free to vote for it in the Tata LitLive MyStory Contest 2018.

Link:Contested Poem : A Headful of Thoughts, A Handful of Stars