Perception... in Everything

As I amble without an impulsion at night,
my course depends on sources of light
that lead me past, reign over my roam,
they shine from the lamps lit at mansions and homes
which glow a comforting golden amber to white

Its stem is arched in a drooping swoon,
around which shriveled leaves are strewn,
collapsing from callous care, perpetual thirst,
too weak for survival, too fragile to be nursed,
is the repercussion of the raging, summer noon

They are beautiful, intricate, a startling hue,
lingering between tedious shades, and a light, iris blue
It's a steadfast shadow of a friend, behind me it will trail,
against the backdrop of the snow- frosty and pale
as it disappears with the sun, I feel a twinge of rue

The grass is moist and gladdening beneath  my feet
successfully drawing away all the heat
it's tipped with tears of fragrant dew
over on the side lays abandoned my shoes,
it coats my soles in a dampened sheet

As I plunge into the lemon yellow fruit,
on my taste buds, pangs of acidity shoot
At the innocent fruit, I glare and glower,
it smiles back demurely, so sweet but sour
Resentment of lemonade, I am now en route

Behind me, stealthily, begins to creep
the inevitable, but unwelcome, shackles of sleep,
with the rhythm of wheels grinding against the street
with the hum of pouring rain and glacial sleet
buried in a blissful drowse, I remain in and keep

Butterfly Wings

First published in the literary magazine 'Balloons Literary Journal'; later reprinted in my school's yearbook.

Like petals of the sky- delicate, fragile
pirouetting with the breeze, with distinguished style
Reflecting golden shards of soft sunlight,
their presence though often, could never be trite
They flit between the shades of nature, flutter at a lilt
emanating beauty, enveloping the world like a quilt
brightening the pallor of every relinquished field,
able to rouse the flowers that have dolefully keeled
Dancers of the air- clad in crimson and lime
resembling fairies, unheeding of the passage of time
Frail and vulnerable, with the texture of ice,
through the air, they purposefully slash and slice
They latch themselves to the syrup of the flowers
unencumbered as the sun scorches and glowers
They flitter instinctively, as though in a trance,
they create an illusion for the senses, as they whirl and dance
Yellow like a daffodil, blue like a coral,
red like a dewy rose, colorations that are floral
Predictably, the awakening of the sun was too sublime to last,
as the clouds converged, their temper overcast
They billowed across, and began to trickle,
and on the pearly wings, began to pierce and tickle
As thunder rolled across the sky,
the beauties retreated, with a disconsolate sigh
The blithely painted wings moved with the gust,
gliding to safety with unrelenting trust
The violent wind whipped through the grass,
as comeliness vanished, having amassed
As the storm died down, the butterflies all disappeared,
leaving the fields looking subdued and austere

Speculations

Max rose apprehensively, and shakily made her way to the front of her class. She shuffled her weight between her two legs, and feverishly rustled the sheaf of papers she was clutching.
She cleared her throat and began.
"The topic for this term's speech is 'Earthly Mysteries and Corresponding Guesses'," she began feebly, comparing herself to her vehemently proclaiming classmates.
"Though my decision may seem like a digression," she continued, motioning towards those before her, "The term 'earthly' does not have to refer to something proximal to the Earth. It can also allude to something that the Earthly beings enjoy conjecturing about."
Emboldened by the observation that everyone sat up a little straighter, and that Mrs. Melli was listening intently, Max proceeded, heartened.
"So, after hours of deliberation- combining my innate interest for space, and childhood speculations- I have chosen my topic to be 'Our Universe'."
Cheeks flushed with excitement, Max launched into an eloquent recital of her thoughts.
"The Universe acts as a roof, a protective covering to our planet. It provides us with light during the day, and guides us at night. It provides the icy landscape with beauty- gorgeous, dancing colors. The sky depicts scenes from mythology and history. So, it would be appropriate to conclude that the Universe is as integral a part of the Earth, as the mighty oceans. Thus, its mysteries will be termed 'Earthly Mysteries'."
The class was silent, and Max's voice began resounding impressively.
"Humans are incapable of confidently concluding the precise limits to which the cosmos can extend. Scientists, and all their equipment, are just insignificant specks of knowledge and technological advancements, when placed against the backdrop of the Universe.
It is evident that we are only aware of a mere fraction of a percentage of the underlying mysteries of our distant surroundings. This is reinforced by the fact that the 'Largest Quasar Group' defies the laws of astrophysics, simply by living up to its name!
So, taking our oblivion into account, it would be fair to say that a few surmises by a curious girl will not undo anything."
Mrs. Melli was wide-eyed, stunned. Max resumed, reaching the climax of her speech.
"Could our Universe be a cell? A cell, alongside millions of others, thriving and providing life to an organism, whose size is so gargantuan, it's mind-boggling? Size is relative, so it will have no impact on that creature whatsoever.
And, this thought reminded me that cells operate in our person as well. Could these cells of ours, house a unique and dynamic universe of infinitesimally small galaxies, stars, chunks of hurtling rock, and living creatures? And, abandoning biological explanations, could an illness, minor or major, be caused by those residential organisms exploiting their surroundings, much the same way be abuse ours?"
Max paused, inhaled deeply, and continued.
"You may think that their are greater mysteries linked to the Bermuda Triangle, or the Great Pyramids of Giza, which is perhaps true. Because, for a mystery to start, there must be an object with that essence of enigma! Since our knowledge of the Universe is quite small, so are the number of questions. This simultaneously adds to our feeling of unknown.
Yet, there are so many intriguing phenomena in our own solar system- raining diamonds on Uranus and Neptune, the presence of an atmosphere on Saturn's moon- Titan, the Oort cloud- a hypothetical region of space.
I won't even dwell further from the limits of the Solar System. We all grew up learning that there are nine planets orbiting the Sun. Who's to say there aren't ten, or eleven, or twenty? It is entirely possible that another planet, its size exceeding Jupiter's, exists furtively beyond Neptune, with its complete mass shrouded by fog that bleeds into the background.
Honestly, the possibilities are endless. And I..."
Max halted suddenly, a lump in her throat. She felt rising anxiety. What if her suppositions were scoffed at?
"And come hell or high water, I intend to be a part of the group of people who unravel these mysteries.."

Max's abrupt departure took everyone by surprise. Jessie, her friend, looked at her. Her face was red and perspiring, her fingers moved impulsively. She seemed mildly abashed at having ignored the last part of her speech. But a hesitant, proud smile was etched across her face.
She clearly spoke from her heart.

Departure of the Summer Heat

Published in 'New Plains Review'.

I hear the crunch of shriveled leaves
disintegrating beneath my feet
I watch the remnants blow with the breeze
as I plod to the morning, jungle heat

I grimace at the crow's menacing calls
as its blown off course by a summer squall
My legs entangle in the irksome vines,
a massive web, clumsily intertwined

The streams reflect a dismal, leaden brown
a surging, rushing cascade as its source,
the dreary shades mirror that of the ground-
the soil- rich, yielding, or sand- dry and course

Trickles of sweat pour down my face
my heart pounds wildly at an aching pace
My ears prick nervously at the most innocent noise,
I whirl instinctively, my body poised

The warm shades of exotic vegetation and creatures
offer no consolation to my itching eyes-
miniature blue-eyed insects with inconceivable features,
with a striking, tropical, imposing guise

I feel the lapping ripples of a gleaming pond,
as vivid schools of fish tickle my knee;
they thrive underneath the abandoned fronds
of ferns, and the lime green creepers stemming from the tree

And as the softer tones of the strident sun
are veiled as the latter sets over the horizon,
unobtrusive critters return to their knolls
while joy and freedom has been triggered in my soul

Some say people feel vulnerable at night,
as they are unfortunately denied the sense of sight
Yet, it simultaneously means the withdrawal of heat
a one-that-cannot-be-compared, stimulating treat

I hear the crunch of fresh, crisp leaves
harmonizing beneath my feet
I gape as the remnants swirls patterns with the breeze
as I gallivant to the night time, frosty heat

I welcome the birds' mellifluous calls
as they swerve motifs by the sudden squalls
My legs are offered warmth by the obliging vines,
a convoluted web, flawlessly intertwined

The twinkling streams reflect a golden brown,
a buoyant, effervescent fall as its source,
the vibrant hues indicate that of the ground-
the secure domain of animals- safe and sound

I appreciate the shadowy views, the sublime scenes
of the foliage, that have turned ebony from green
Though humans are declined the perception of sight,
in summer, the most wonderful experiences are lived at night