The Daily Post - Vijaya Sundaram

What would you say if I
Took your life and mine
And wove both into a
Tapestry that told a tale
Of two people long ago
Who completed each other
But were complete before
They met each other,
And yet, more so,
After?

Would you say,
That does not make sense
But here, here’s my life.
Take it, weave it, and tell the tale
Of how we were incomplete
Like how the earth and sky
Are incomplete, one without
The other.
Tell the tale of how there was
Hydrogen and oxygen, and
Then there was water.
All are complete in themselves,
But water, more sustaining than the
Sum of its parts.

No matter. Here we are,
Atoms and molecules
In eternal dance, held
By tight invisible bands
Flowing freely, loosely
Together, yet, shaping
Themselves to whatever
Container they fill.

And all this,
A tale told in a tapestry
That someone will
Find one day, perhaps,
Or, which will dissolve
In time, and re-unite
With air and sun
And water.

Completeness and incompleteness
Are only part of a long, long dance
And we’ll never see it to its end,
For we’ll be long gone.

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Tags: #Daily Prompt, #Incomplete, #Original Poetry

Incomplete

Mar 14, 2016 Daily Life, The Daily Post

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Incomplete

Incomplete
March 13th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

Why is it SO hard to write about this topic? I began TWO poems before this post, and discarded them.

I think I know the reason why.

It’s because INCOMPLETE is the dirge of my days. Incomplete this, and incomplete that, and incomplete something else.

It’s not that I’m a slacker. It’s just that I can’t keep up sometimes. Or, perhaps, I just dream big dreams, sometimes — no, not lofty ones, like saving the earth, or the oceans, or helping one homeless person every day. No, just BIG dreams … like I WILL clean up my room that’s overflowing with seventeen years worth of teaching-related papers and books that I do not, and will not want to use ever again.

Or, I WILL finish reading “The Defender – How the Legendary Black Newspaper Changed America,” in between dealing with cooking, housework, other work, laundry, taking child and dog here and there, going to drum group, playing the guitar, singing with my family knitting, taking walks, writing … and starting a new life.

Two years, I began TWO novels, and have not completed them. Arrgh!

Is it fear of committing myself to the ultimate step (for me)?

No, more likely, it’s just inertia. It’s like getting my sitar out of its case, and actually playing it, instead of moaning and groaning about how I haven’t played it recently.

Once I begin, I go on. I know that. So, what am I waiting for?

Oh, yes, I’ll finish writing this post. Unfinished laundry awaits me, and after that, sleep … perhaps.

Goodnight!

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Tags: #Incomplete, Meanderings

Unfinished

Mar 13, 2016 Original Poetry, The Daily Post

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Incomplete

Unfinished
©March 13th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

The brush moves in strokes
And a painting is born
The bell rings; like smoke,
The image is gone.

Turn back to the brush
Take up a new one.
You feel there’s no rush
When you bloom in the sun.

And work you’ve begun
Ere the bell was rung?
And dreams where you’ve run
For a goal that’s won?

So what about it? Ah, this
You’ll work at early and late
Your unfinished work is
The future that waits.

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Tags: #Incomplete, #Unfinished

Regret and Reach

Mar 12, 2016 Original Flash Fiction, The Daily Post

My second response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Misstep

Regret and Reach
©March 12th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram

Somewhere, in the course of her days, she made a blunder. She misheard. She misunderstood. She misspoke. She mistook.

She missed a step. It might have been the thirteenth one. Empty space loomed between it and the fourteenth step.

She took a deep breath, and reached for it.

The twelfth step below her receded. The thirteenth vanished. The fourteenth loomed.

One more day, one more year, many more years.

She spent a year in the space where the missed step was, cocooned in a state of regret. She space-walked through time. Then, she reached that fourteenth step.

Now, when she looks back, she cannot remember any of the details. All she knows is she chases after the shining truth, and turns her back to deceit. She hacks her way through to the heart of goodness, and sees right into the heart of evil. She will not be fazed by it.

And she walks with a step that will not falter.

But there are days, when she mishears, and misunderstands, and quails. She avoids that misstep, that thirteenth step, and flies upwards towards that fourteenth one with the ease and grace of a trapeze artist.

And catches the hand that reaches down to her before they both flip upwards, and fly through the air.

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Tags: #Misstep

Missed Step and Hidden Moon (Four Senryu)

Mar 12, 2016 Senryu, The Daily Post

For The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Misstep

Miss, please watch your step!
She makes a misstep, hurtles,
Floating, feather-light.

So easy to see
Now, floating above the earth
So sweet it all was

All the faults, the flaws
Their beauty, his joys, her pain,
Complex chords in songs.

Leaves that float downward
Look too much like autumn tears
The moon hides her face.

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Tags: #Misstep, #Original Poetry

Flow-erings

Mar 12, 2016 The Daily Post

My third response to the March 11th Daily Post Daily Prompt: Flow

When sunlight and life
Flow into the veins of plants,
They burst into bloom.

See that thick sunlight
Flowing around our ankles
Drawing in the bees.

And that slow, sweet light,
The slow, golden flow that glows,
Makes for sweet honey.

See honey flow down.
See how it draws out sweetness,
Makes us swoon with love.

And we taste goodness,
And flowers and sunlight sweet.
Love, let us share it!

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Tags: #Love, #Original Poetry, Flow and flowers, Sharing, Sweetness

Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

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