The thing with moments Is that they never stay Ethereal, chimerical They alight and fly away They come upon us On gossamer whispery wings Or rush with such force That you’re left reeling The breath knocked out of you And then they’re gone Or they cloak you silently So imperceptibly Like the lengthening shadows Of eventide That you realize That they were there Only after they have quietly Etherised into yesterday’s dawn
The thing with moments Is that they never last Always on nimble feet They are fleeting pin pricks On your skin A quick rush of warmth within The lungs for a moment collapsing A vanishing scene The stuff of dreams Always receding But not before leaving Their forever tattoos In reds, yellows and blues A kiss, a hug, a bruise Eternal imprints on the heart Emotional ink Permanent, piercing Sunk deeply in By the wraiths and ghosts Of moments past.
Dappled sunlight Upon my skin Warm, streaming motes Kiss my neck My arms, my face Whispering sweet nothings Caressing, comforting My shoulders drop The weight of the world That sits on them Like twin rocks I’m no longer Atlas Holding up the sky Shivering In its storminess Legs quivering Under its burden of sighs And tears and loss For now It has all melted away The coldness, the heaviness, the grey For now There is only a quiet joy A rainbow sprinkling Of dappled sunlight Upon my skin Thawing me, warming me From within.
It’s the little joys in life That lift and hug the soul; It’s the little brushes with sublimity That paint the rosiest strokes
It’s the steaming mugs of tea shared With a friend, over confidences and laughter; The mugs wrapped in hands as warm as the hearts That are bonding, ministering, healing ... and after Memorializing that perfect little moment of joy.
It’s the sudden cool breeze that caresses the cheek And then wraps me up in its vital embrace; It’s the happy burst of a monsoon shower As she dances and cleanses; prances and quenches Leaving behind her intoxicating petrichor In a joyful bouquet of nostalgia and grace
It’s the intrepid, songful, mirthful mynah That unexpectedly struts right up to my feet Warbling of little delights; trilling with all her might Laying her little heart bare in melodious refrain It’s the big, big soul in that fragile frame That reminds me of the precious little joys.
It’s the beautiful Sakura tree, bounteous in its white and pink Waiting for a wayward breeze to stir up her flower-bedecked limbs; It is seeing the frolicsome duo of tree and breeze Create magic in a moment they mutually seize As the blossoms flutter down in lusty effusion Covering the ground with inflorescent profusion An enchanting, enthralling moment of joy.
It’s little kindnesses wrought in the moment A helping hand on a busy street, A warm smile in the milieu of rushing feet A tender word to the transiently fallen A little something more for the lonely and forgotten It’s seeing this shared transcendental camaraderie That gives me that small little rush of joy.
It’s looking up into a clear night sky And finding Orion and Taurus winking up high It’s watching the Big Dipper look tenderly upon Little Ursa Minor nestling just under the moon It’s seeing our little world from the vastness of space That fills me with joy and bolsters my faith
The quickening string that binds us all Our whole web of life; all living creatures Are these startlingly simple acts of joy These wondrous, alchemical creations of nature It’s this coming together of life’s vital energy That lifts and elates with its mystical synergy This is the mannah that nurtures the soul Mending our cracks and making us whole.
Mahvash Mohtadullah - The Roaming Desi 