The Crystal Ball
Pieces picked to blend into a crystal sphere,
Each roll in the dirt adding to its luster,
To catch yesterday’s smile or a passing joy,
Crumbs to keep the soul alive.
With every scrub of the passing day,
To view in each the life that could be,
Like a coin wedged in the floor crack,
To whose value none would agree.
Dark omens screened by its glow, find no way out,
What if omens and astral appearances commune,
Watch with intent for each turn of fortune,
A cloud shall not block the moon.
Old love wells up again
In the abyss of absence
In qualmy waters gains the mystic eye,
Where visions toss and dropp in dead silence
To gaze without moving a muscle or batting an eye,
To lose spring and fall, to fretting rains collective mourn
Over what the mind can’t stain, the heart reigns,
Predict not the coming of fall or birds return
Clouds are stiff and winds are rough,
Not a stir in God’s great Cup,
Any swirly detail the crystal gazer might miss,
As a star gazer my heart shall pick up.
28th March-2011
poem by Seema joglekar
Added by Poetry Lover
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