Monday, June 25, 2007

Mariners Compass

This is a story about a dad and his son

A son who wanted to sail in the oceans for fun

The son pecked his dad to fulfill his dream

So his dad gave him a ship which shined as the sun’s beam

The son took his friend along in the ship for a sail

His dad threw a box in his direction and said use it when your friends fail

The son caught the box and tucked it into his pocket

He adjusted the sails and the ship soared like a rocket

The ocean was calm; his friends helped him direct the ship

They went deeper into the ocean, as the sun began taking a dip

Who would have guessed that this would get dirty?

The light had gone and the clouds came to the party

The ocean began to rumble and churn

And the son didn’t know which way to turn

The sails realized they were imperfect

And the ocean decided which way to redirect

As the ship swirled from left to right

His friend ran away, leaving him alone to fight

He remembered what his dad had told him and reached for his pocket

He opened the box and found a small docket

It said the arrow tip in the instrument show you the way

Follow it my son and you shall never sway away

He looked at the instrument showing him his direction

He hoisted the sails and was back in action

The sails put there mistakes behind

As weather grew unkind

For days the son sailed directed by his instrument

The oceans had been silenced, but he drove against the current

His friends returned back to their loyalty

And the ocean back to its serenity

he could now see the shore

and his dad smiling from the door

he got down from the ship

and climbed on to his fathers hip

what is this dad he asked? Pointing to the instrument

its your conscience he replied with a crescent J

In the above story the son represents our soul

Senses our friends, the sails our intelligence, the ship our body,

the ocean our mind and the instrument the compass our conscience which always

knows which way to go use it when your mind plays games say the dad… our lord

-the firebird

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Mr Thread

This is a story about a necklace in my grand mom’s jewelry box .i just found it last night I remember seeing a beautiful pearl necklace it had nine pearls

Each of different shape and shade But no longer the pearls shimmered in the box which I remember locking it .All I could stare was at the thread I felt he spoke to me .what follows is his story “Hello sir I am Mr. thread “

“I know Mr why you are shocked
It seems you are looking for a necklace that you had locked

Wonderful days weren't they
with pearls red blue green and grey

Pink was my favorite
I have seen no one shimmer better than her till date

Black I thought was great
he liked Red but you know how is fate

Green blue and yellow were my best pals
Maroon brown as sweet as chocolate and grey was a doll

I liked them all and would call them all
Not many knew me ,but the necklace stood tall

Until a day they all became busy
and my calls and repeated request made them fussy

Pink misunderstood me completely
She broke contacts with me immediately

Black stood the test of time
red who was stunned didn’t even mime

Green blue and yellow who were busy didn’t pick up my calls
Maroon and Brown resigned to fate, but grey was still a doll

How do I convince them that’s my job
I had failed to connect their heart, I was a blob

This failure stung me as a lightning stroke
and the necklace that stood tall broke”

As silence filled our space
“I am still here friend” replied Black with a sparkling gaze

As I lifted Mr thread I saw what I had forgot
All other pearls had gone but black smiled next to the knot

A thread similar to Mr thread runs through all of us connecting us with each other.At the level of an individual he represent our soul and at the level of a group he could be anyone or anything that keep us together take care of him...stay connected

-The firebird

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Professor Bat

He was dark and despised
They called him evil and sighed
A few called for his head
Most of the birds wanted him dead

I had been observing him for days
By day he would not fly as he did not have sight
He looked at the world hanging upside down for days
But he flew in the dark by night

Something that made me fly by night
That which made me special was my light
But this fellow was a delight
He flew as fast as me but that too without sight!

We are friends by now
We enjoy our night flight
He was not evil but who would believe me now
The more I tried they even wanted me out of sight

The world had begun to despise me too
As I went back to my folk
They didn’t want me anymore
I packed my bags and left, to be a firebird no more

Flying through the night again
I felt the happiness that rained
Its then that I realized that
He was blind, he was a bat

He was blind to the outer world
But his consciousness reigned in and grew multifold
He only obeyed the order of his self
And flew through the darkest moments with peace within himself

The bat can't see.But it listens to itself, to the sounds it produces and it flies.A flight beyond light and darkness

-the firebird