 Gold, frankincense and myrrh
They bore their offerings
Of God, frankincense and Myrrh
To lay at His baby feet.
They, in all their royal splendour
He, in a hovel
In swaddling clothes
With disturbed and lowing cattle
 For trumpet and fanfare.
He, the promised Messiah
Yet, He too a king
In strange circumstances.
The disparity!
Did it manifest itself to them
It was a wasted journey!
Or did they realise
The facade that was their regality
And their gifts.
Did they understand
The symbolism of their gifts?
Of glory, priestly sacrifice and bitterness
A precursor of what was yet to be.
And we! with our fanfare and trumpet
And the glitter and the gold
Hail His birth
Forgetting the frankincense and the myrrh
The offerer and the offering
The sacrificial victim.
And the bitterness
Of that "bitter perfume"
Of the gathering gloom
That pervades the lives
Of those like Him
In our midst.
Jeannette Cabraal
Nature's bounteous beauty
When I see
The calm of a quite sea
The soul of a starry night
The grace of a bird in flight
The beauty of the twilight hour
I think of Almighty's power.
 When I see
The seas with still waters,
Shimmering in the sunny light
Tall, graceful palm trees
Waving in the wind
Various colourful blooms,
Dancing and prancing in the breeze
I am really pleased.
When I see
The showly spreading majestic trees
In which birds build their bowers
Exotic foliage and fragrant flowers
Palm-fringed beaches and cascading waterfalls
I admire, ignoring others' calls.
When I see
The myriad stars in the moonlit sky
Multi-hued wings of a butterfly
The shrubs in the jungle
And the beasts that mingle
Often I ponder the wondrous things
That nature brings
And awe struck I wonder
Mother Nature's scenic splendour
M. Azhar Dawood
In her memory...
When death visited her abode,
When she was still in her young age,
She had to go
Despite her busy schedules
For today, tomorrow, and then onwards.
When endless yesterdays
Have stacked up into years,
Filled with never ending memories
 Of happiness, victory and satisfaction,
Of regret, remorse and fatigue,
Of glory, hope and effort,
Life has come so far,
Struggling at times;
Smoothly at others...
For now she is gone,
Doors of future are closed for her,
Only PAST remains noticeable
Easy to track down, and now
Past is only a memory
Left alone
For someone
Who shed a tear for her
To recall and to reminiscence
Of all her yesteryears...
Chanakya Liyanage
Are you sure?
Are you sure that what you are doing is right?
Are you sure that what you are doing is wrong?
Are you sure that you have done the best or the worst in life?
'Cause no matter what you do or are compelled to do, is up to you to
decide!
Be sure of what you want it to be
Your life can be cruel if you decide it to be
Your life could be good if you make it be
Be sure of life and what you make of it
'Cause no matter what there will be a time when it all comes back to you
So, be sure of what you do!
Saffiya
Wrath
Wrath, why did thee enter into my bloodstream
Coursing through every vein?
The purgative of meditation I took
Yet failed to purge thee out
The emetic of catharses I took
Yet failed to spew thee out
'Pleasure' from my heart thee grabbed
With thy sharp rigid nails
And coerced insomnia to bother me all night
Thee culprit wrath,
I suffer the pangs thee trigger
Like an ember thee still stay behind
Searing every inch
Turning the hot red ember
Into a cold black cinder
Please exit from my psyche
Ere I end up
In a heart detonation
Nandani P. R. Wickramasingha
Repentance
The flame shone then,
But unburned ashes remain.
My head is shining now...
- Santhushti Ekanayake
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