My dearest Amma

I look at the different types of items,
In the shop and I stop at the section,
Which has the spices,
Lingering there savouring the fragrance of them.
Fragrance of spices remind me of home,
Even if I am in another country,
Which has a different time zone,
The fragrance of spices remind me of,
A very special person in my world,
That is you my dearest Amma.

With the softest cheeks like petals,
Eyes shining with contentment in life
Lips so sweet and a person so humble,
Amma's hands always have the fragrance,
Of spices with cooking her family delicious meals.
For years..........

Amma looks so lovely even with her strands of gray hair
And I tell her so,
She just smiles with me and tells me about one thing,
The impermanent nature of life,
Buddhism is where Amma found meaning in life,
And I always hope for all your dreams to come true.

Bertholamuze Nisansala Dharmasena
 

 The First Lament Of The Glorious Quran

I am a holy book now in worldly elegant prints,
To know my holy nature, here are some hints,
Rich in cover and also very nicely bound,
But in most hearts am I rarely found.

On shelves high, reverently am I kept,
Only to be forgotten and alone to be left,
With respects from some a lot I am kissed,
But my main points sadly always missed.

In rhyming tones am I beautifully recited,
But my heavenly paths, very rarely sighted,
These heavenly paths clearly have I shown,
To believing hearts are they easily known.

I am most often used for false swear,
but mostly, my true use is extremely rare,
A miracle am I, that can transform any world,
And your world too, if only you will read my words.

I have unfathomable wisdom and imperishable treasure,
Yours to have and to hold in vast unbounded measure.
I am your faithful saviour and I am your guiding light,
I am also your best friend and your unknown might.

You are truly now in darkness and not in light,
Read me right and I will change your plight,
Light on light to heavens sublime height,
To live there forever in bliss and delight.

To enter the paths, lend me your heart,
Heavens gates will surely open apart,
The paths are flights, straight from start,
Right into the palace of his majesty's heart.

M. Farid Abdeen
 

The Prado

'My PRADO' thought the man in the Prado proudly.
'A Prado!' thought I inside the office vehicle.
'A Prado!!' thought a young girl behind her father on a bicycle.
'? !!!' thought a beggar who couldn't read.

SP

Wineglass

Am I ......?
Used.... washed.... and filled over to be tasted.
As you like it,
Polished to the best visionary.
On hard fragileness,
Shining under the mercury light,
Am I a wineglass.
To fit in to your fingers,
And not to make any fuss on your moving steps,
To be touched with some other's glass,
In your merry moment,
And again and again....
To make your lips satisfy to the best,
Am I a wineglass..?
Am I...
When the filling is over,
To be replaced by another,
Am I a wineglass..?
Only when if invited to come
To your circle of high pedigree.
Am I a wineglass?

Menaka Chaminda