MRIDULA MUSINGS: POETESS MRIDULA MENON WRITES, LOVE SO IMPERFECT.

MRIDULA MUSINGS: 

POETESS MRIDULA MENON WRITES, 

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LOVE SO IMPERFECT

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Love is no love
When it searches for the love
So perfect
No mortal is ever perfect
Nor his love be ever unblemished.
Celestial love pervades
When we love ourselves
All the imperfections synchronized
To make the ordinary exceptional
Blended with that pinch of the surreal .

Weaknesses forgotten
Eccentricities forgiven
Blemishes enclosed ,yet overlooked
Definitely love becomes perfect
In its imperfections
Making life a symphony of love
Every flaw—patiently accepted
Every scar and blotch –lovingly glossed over
Indeed love when genuine and sincere
Forgets , forgives and binds
To live in loving togetherness
In trials , uncertainties and instabilities. .
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mridula menon

.POETESS MRIDULA MENON
 15.02.2016.

MRIDULA MUSINGS: POETESS MRIDULA MENON WRITES, IN SEARCH OF HIS GURU.

IN SEARCH OF HIS GURU.

He had lived many summers
Had learned much and more
Was hungry for more.
One fine day he left home-
His aged and ailing mother
In search of a Guru, an idol
For him to worship, to cherish
To  guide him  to enlightenment.
Wandered , travelled , searched
For a Guru—all in vain
Until a saintly man , serene and benevolent,
Said-‘Son,  go home to your beloved mother,
You will find your Guru in her
She alone can make you enlightened.’
Not , fully convinced, yet he returned
With trepedition in  his heart
To meet his long forgotten mother.
His mother, abandoned and  alone
With trembling heart, with fervent prayers
Waited for her son’s return
And he came….a pathetic figure
Full of repentance and remorse
Writ large on his unkempt face
Begging her forgiveness.
The mother forgot her years of misery
Her spells of maniac depressions
Forgave her beloved son
Her heart melting with motherly love
Her eyes brimming with tears
Of  frustration and relief
Embraced him, her son, folded him to her bosom,
Swelling with all the pent up ocean of love for her son.
A desperate cry ,  hoarse with shame and guilt  arose in him
Her son … bowed to her, his mother, whispering –
My mother,  my enlightenment in life
Ever loving, ever inspiring, ever forgiving
Matchless and priceless in love so compassionate
Love so self sacrificing , the epitome of love
Ever beautiful and ageless in its divinity….my Guru!!.

   
Poetess 
Mridula  Menon.

MRIDULA MUSINGS: POETESS MRIDULA MENON WRITES, RAINBOW

RAINBOW.

You, the many splendoured rainbow

True, you make your presence

Felt, Oh! Very seldom

Yet enough and more

For us to give joy.

After the rainy showers

When the trees droop low

Their leaves heavy with rain

When the flowers wilt and swoon

When the sun becomes shrouded

His golden rays concealed

The clouds slowly whitening

It is then---then you

Emerge, the seven hued vibgyor

Resplendent and delightful

To our eyes...the shine after the rain

The hope after the torment.

poetess mridula menon.