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Articles: My Thoughts | Poetry: A Beautiful Way Of Viewing Life
- Ms. shantala kottisa
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Hello everybody,
If you had come to look at this article, it means that you should be having a inner poetic self that is Still active in you. Well I guess everyone is a poet in his own right whether or not one involves in writing poetry. Sounding weird? Actually what I mean is, poetry is not just in the rhyming of the words or in the fantastic and whimsical descriptions of the world alone. It is there laden in every thing that is called life.
The rhythm of our own expereinces over the years involving losses and gains, of pleasures and pains, of births and deaths, of appointments and disappointments, of mornings and nights, of summers and winters is nothing but poetry in animated movement.
Our years since the childhood are like the fresh introductory verses of a poem. As we go on with the poem of our life, may be we sometimes feel that the freshness of our childhood is lost from within out lives. But then these are just the middle lines in the poem and infact most vital and crucial. Without them we cannot understand the link between the much enjoyable childhood in one's life and the retrospective sexagenarian years later.
The adventure of the youngsters and wisdom of the elders find their juncture in the middle years of everyone's life. But ultimately is it not a life worth living, being attuned to the growing changes in and around us. With every passing day life gets better in rhythm and harmony if we only have a mind and a heart to perceive it. When we become aware that, every sunrise, every sunset, every single moment in our life is brand new, for it has never happened before, you have succeded in banishing the much dreaded words of the modern times from your life: the so called 'BOREDOM' and 'WORRY'.
Is it then not vain of a teenager worrying about entering into the much responsible years of a youth and that of a middle aged person into his old age? The teenager has only to realise that with growing years, he is only to get better in his head and the middle ager to comprehend that though he may loose his physcial energy, he is but to grow mellow with wisdom.
Life is therefore the grandest of poems being sung, dayin and dayout. And this poem is beseeching us to listen to its endless tunes and its sublime expressions filled with infinite abstractions. All that one has to do to listen to this poem is just to open one's heart and mind and live in the present. After all is it not true that the poem is being composed within you, yourself?
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