Poem: A message to my future self

This is a small poem that I wrote for a poetry writing competition in my diocese last year. Wish I could pay heed to my own message.

Hey future self, it’s me, though sick,
Writing to you amidst the 2020 pandemic.
Leaving a message from my mere experience of 26 years;
Hope you take it as one from your closest peers.
If life has become blue again,
And you want to call it quits;
Remember it is never blue enough
To make your soul go blue.
If life is still getting rough,
The ever-increasing tonnage of responsibilities,
Buckle up, ask for help and raise the sails,
There’s no adventure sitting alone at the shoreline.
If life is still trapped in the pits of lust,
Cry out for grace, O my numbed soul.
It’s never too late
To seek the Beauty of all things beautiful.
If life still seems too comfortable
Surrounded by luxuries and ease,
Skyrocketing pride and arrogance;
Beware, you are on the highway to hell!
If no matter what, remember still
The hands that delicately crafted every atom of your soul,
In the flaming fires of the stars,
Continues to embrace you with His unconditional love.

Poem: On the way to the Himalayas

In a sedan, on the way to the Himalayas.
Curvy twisty roads through mountains black, barren and mighty
Through Himalayan cedar and pine draped valley,
we drifted like ants over a giant canvas.

Calm and strong, the turquoise colored Bhagirathi,
carving out its own space beside us.
Hallowed, yet caged by us.
Though tight-lipped today, waiting to break free.

Terraces sculpted with sweat, flourishing villages
We fled past a barefoot gharwal boy, looking bolder,
by the homemade cricket bat on his shoulder,
walking like the king of the Himalayan ranges.

On the way to snow-clad Dayara bugyal, stops our sedan
Greetings!, says a smiling man, 
and leads us on an arduous trek uphill.
To a small mud hut wishing all goodwill.

While we were resting, night dawns, and behold the sight
White mountain peaks shining in the glory of the moonlight.
Hearts shivering, in himalayan breeze shooting spikes of ice,
we step out to the dark woods, enticed by the celestial beauty of the skies.

The full moon makes a royal appearance, gradually rising
from behind the mountains. While my heart is basking,
in the cosmic silence of a Himalayan night,
far from this vexing urban blight.