Sunday Musings: Williamsji Maveli

Sunday Musings:  By Williamsji

Sunday, 06 July, 2014

My Sunday Day Greetings to COSMOFUNNEL Administration, to all authors, artistes and viewers

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SYNOPSIS: This is my weekend writing column for a review of a poem from a selected author. This Column is being titled as " Sunday Musings " with a view to feature an in-depth analysis of  any one of the poems from the previous weeks winning nominations, selected by me at random to avoid the elaborate review or comment postings  by me in the usual comments column. Cherie Sumner's almost all poems are great success and have won the nominations; hence it was very difficult to choose the best one for my review. However, I shall plan this column in such a way to accommodate almost all style of poems by all poets and poetess of COSMOFUNNEL, which I hope will give more room for encouragement and inspirations to write. The poems selected are purely from my own liking and discretion and has nothing to do with the ratings, voting and nomination aspects. Hope, readers will understand my view point and enjoy my writing. My views and interpretations in this column are purely my own observations, and it has nothing to do with the personal life of the author of the poem.  I am eager to read your feed-backs.  The  poem which  I have taken-up for this Sunday Musings is this

•    Indecisive Gospels
•    By Poetess Piusha Singh

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• Strolling down the rocky trail,
• Entrusting you by closed eyes,
• Adhered into, despite the 
• evil eyes cropping around us .

(Like a new Love the smell of excitement and beauty that the feelings of being in love bring modern and romantic floral tones. Closed eyes are symbolic submissiveness in whole to the lover)

• Sang indecisive gospels in love,
• my weary eyes ruffling in a tangle.
• Frisking truth in your essence, 
• gay filled in my arid life invariably.

(In our days, the word "love" is connected to a state of being which is rich in emotive vigor and strong experiences; but in the end the person is put down and left with a greater void than ever)

• Sparkle withered around in a glance.
•  Life endured in a fantasy consistently
• Lingered to be in your perpetual amity
• All incubus lurking around disappeared.
• When you held my hand and walked.

(Love is like a light; whenever we try to catch it, it escapes)

• Sewn new hopes on the clouds of morrow,
• Fragrance of your love encircled in each sniff.
• Timidity vanished as grounded farther every
• Moment in time, silence witnessing our communion.

(The word "love" often hangs from our lips; it seems so familiar, even though we have to admit that we do not know its face, shape and fragrance)

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• READ BETWEEN THE LINES

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When we speak of love, or when we love, we are drawing from the source of love - i.e. the image of a male body and soul, the body of God Siva and the soul of Paravathy  which is carved into the heart of each lover.

Despite this, some still say that it is better than not loving at all. Given that our passions are so invasive, experiences of this type occur because one clearly ignores the project conceived before time even existed The husband breathed love on the wife, and the wife on the husband, and in so doing they created the world in their eternal dance of love. Any other love, if it is not founded on this image, very quickly ends up being idolization of the others or of self. The first characteristic of love is, in fact, its capacity to transcend not only one's self, but also the all creation and this is a pure gift of faith. The infirm human heart is in constant ascent, and is often burdened by self love; hence it moans and fights so that it doesn't withdraw into itself again.

It seems these days that the virtue of purity is in contrast with love. It's called an outcome of the much-talked-about inhibitions which one should be freed of. Often, even amongst all the thoughts of love, purity is seen as an "optional" as though the body were not a shrine in which we live, or is seen as a house which doesn't need tidying up. To the former I would say that the inhibition they talk of is the original sin which our first forefathers handed down to us. All we required is  to love and be loved. Of course it refers to the person who meets our heart's desire, not just anyone. The nostalgia which remains in our heart even after we've satisfied our desires indicates that the problem with modern man isn't not wanting to love, but not knowing who to love.

Please accept my congratulations for sharing with us, your poem titled "Indecisive Gospels" on love from your golden pen dear Poetess Piusha Singh, Your poems are amazing and alluring in all terms and syntax of poetry, wishing you good luck, May God bless.

BY

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

POEM & PICTURE BY: Piusha Singh

APPRECIATION REVIEW BY: Williamsji Maveli