Genesis of all, cradles in infancy,
Edifying and explicating alike,
Bemusing the mind with mysteries,
Eventually revealing beyond secrecy.
One such mystery – the Adam’s ale –
Filling up nearly three-quarter of the orb,
Submitting to the lofty skies,
But that’s only a big fat lie!
Holding another world within,
And being all lofty in it’s own spin!
Being so seamless, disquietude feigned,
Filling up puddles, as it rained,
Sometimes swallowing life, destructively, unaffectedly,
But at others, concocting sights heavenly;
Quenching a living’s thirst unconditionally,
But sometimes being dark blatantly!
In an attempt to contain Adam’s ale-
One such genesis – pottery;
As my hands stir and caress gently,
The clay takes form, dancing briskly.
Sloppy and imploring for a form,
Finally yields to contain a portion of rainstorm!
In its emptiness, there’s strength,
To hold memories at length.
As I look at this mug of aqua,
I wonder at its deceptive appearance;
In the mug, possessing transparent incoherence,
But in the expanse, fiercely blue congruence;
In the mug, so tranquil and full of peace,
But in the expanse, running so deep –
How many secrets do you actually keep?
In the mug, full of potential energy,
But in the expanse, can I keep up with your kinetic energy?
This Adam’s ale can preach many a tale!
I become like two – one real, and the other unreal –
But I wonder if it’s maybe surreal?
Is it living a dream or dreaming a life?
What can sort my mind’s subtle strife?
I need a pebble, that comprehends the language,
To do as it has been told;
To swash across the surface with tact,
Instead of blindly drowning at the first point of contact;
Thus giving me entry into this enchanted world,
With knowledge from each swash and swirl.
My spirit would then broaden its horizons,
And expand as wide as the oceans!