The Roar of Creation - Poem

The Roar of Creation

Birdsong in forests, hurricane and thunderstorms
Heteroglossia of colours in thresholds of experience
And emotions forming our memories, transformed
Our minds and bodies and every single cell hence
Giving rise to a deep and everlasting sense of belonging
But at the same time they were vines constantly binding.

Stepping over the boundaries of time and space
We indulged in how easily we left our footprints behind
Set in motion by a mutually restrictive and magnifying place
In our memories and souls, circulating in clandestine
Our very own system embedded with memory imprints
If we were made of stardust, in the moonlight we would glint.

And in the moonlight some of our memories seemed to sprint
Across the gaps in sound, existing in the liminal silence
Before the violin's first note:
They were almost real, but now in dissolution they burned
Others became wispy residues that were almost fake
Flowing into new unrelated spaces like freshwater lakes.

Swish! Swosh! ... each sound actualises from vibration
A microcosm of all things in the cosmos vibrating to produce sound
This reflects our truth: We are all vibrating creatures of creation
Part of the larger soundscape of the universe, out loud we sound
Aaaaaaaaa
Generating sound, we are in a perpetual state of creator and creating
Accentuating the blurred lines between happened and still happening.

Some sounds are melodious, like the plucking of harp strings
Ah happy, happy sounds! that cannot cause misery in any way
Others are more like noise, a kind of irritation that which brings
Infuriation like the clashing of metal drums in the silence of day
To be the former we must free ourselves from our memories
In our bodies and minds- we are too in it, we must get out of its mists.

Come, take my hand, and let’s see the world for what it truly is
Vibrations and colours and sounds notwithstanding,
We raise our arms to the sky and stand tall to feel the breeze
Some of our leaves fall while others grow green and enriching
Our branches reach deep into our trunks to erase our rings
The wind caresses us and says

We are not our bodies
We are not even our minds
We are singing and dying
Creator and creating.

Far away in another parallel world the absence of thunder roars
Like the roar of its birth- disrupting the linear chronology of time
And space. A bird begins to shout. The sunlight gathers. Pours.
And space transforms the world we know into dry ice sublime
If we stay focused on the assimilation of the roar to our lives and not
On the world with our lives, will we land on this world unlike an astronaut?

We land to see an old man lying on his hospital bed serenely
He is about to die but in his mind’s eye, chaos takes the reins
Through evolution he was gifted with drive, intensity and complexity
But he being foolish, was faithful to quasi-anchors of reality’s games
Where he should have been piecing together dynamic compositions
Of his musical tunes; He gets out of bed to complete his life’s missions.
It is never too late.

Oh dear Readers, who have been dutifully following the tune of each word
Do you feel your whole body getting heavier? And if you look in the mirror you will see
Paws and a majestic mane covering your short rounded head that has occurred
Without your notice, as orange fur pierces through your skin- it is no use to plea
It is obvious that these changes are here to stay forevermore
You open your mouth and inadvertently let out a ROARRR!!!