The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse

On the **third day of Navratri**, we invoke **Devi Chandraghanta**, the embodiment of strength, courage, and serenity. This day resonates with the **Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura)**—the center of inner power, will, and transformation. Just as the **sun fuels life**, this chakra fuels our ambitions and discipline. Amidst life's inner storms—desires, doubts, and struggles—devotion becomes the unwavering force that grounds us. This poem reflects that journey, where amidst chaos, the divine presence remains our anchor. **Jai Ma!**

Rough and stormy, inside, 

waves of desires and thoughts,

and at the center of this cyclone,

rests the sacral power

of devotion. 

Jai Ma. Jai Jai Ma.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

The bench in the park

Sunshines and the storms.

The wooden bench in park, 

splintered with time,

bears witness to it all.

Linking with Photo Challenge #525

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Wrath of nature

Dam in her soul broke. 

Trees, homes, roads, awash like twigs, 

waves decimating.

Is nature angry? 

Rivers, a blazing fury. 

Mankind stands humbled.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Beach and storm

Treasures strewn on beach,

after night of wildest storm.

Pearls in tides and depths.

Linking with Ronovan Writes

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Lost wanderers

And they started...
On a long road.
Miles of journey.
One burning desire.
To reach their homes,
to that embrace of love.
Setting skies did not matter.
Nor did rising sun.
Like birds at eventide,
they flew back,
to their only shelter in this storm.
Migrants,
that’s what they call them,
these itinerants afoot,
yearning, pining for their nests.
In verity though,
we are all migratory birds.
Tiny specks,
lost wanderers on this atlas.
Ramblers in search of our haven,
somewhere within the deepest,
quietest chambers of our own heart,
where the soul strums in rhythm.
Definitely, a long road ahead.
Miles of journey,
meandering curves,
wilderness too.
One burning desire.
To reach home.

Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt 

Rainstorm in desert

Fragrance of her soul,
A rainstorm in the desert,
Quenches all my thirst.

Inspired by the prompt at

The Tempest

The tepid calmness beneath the somber shroud

Pregnant with a promise of violent storm

The preceding silence is intensely loud

Still and stagnant, like a painting in the dorm

Ships return, seagulls take refuge at the coast

In those darkened hours barely before the storm

And then the gusts taste of thunder, roar and boast

Blizzards twist and twirl the weather-vanes about

Deafening howls resound from pits nethermost

A chaos reigns within, a chaos, without.

Until a sliver of hope is tossed about.

Courtesy: Louise, with The Storyteller's Abode

Linking with Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers