A raven tide silver moonlight scattered. warm waves cover me like a blanket. a curtain of clouds waiting to be lifted. waiting for the show to begin. the ocean calls out in soft whispers. a sound no one can hear A raven tide a reflection that mattered. somehow I can see.
Shaurya Singh refuses to call himself a poet, an artist, playwright, or a filmmaker although he writes poetry, paints, writes and directs plays and also makes short films. His work also includes working closely with and coaching people who want to take charge of their lives and create the life that they desire. His vision, he says is the creation of a community of people who will passionately build an alternative lifestyle based on emerging new-age principles. He is the co-founder of Saarthak Productions, a theatre group based in Bangalore. Some of his poetry and paintings are featured on the blog A Formless Formation.
Whispered names falling simply off lips, Freckles that ripple on skin, Azure eyes that flooded dreams. Eyes may capsize stable thoughts, Blindly wade into unknown waters, Not knowing awaiting dangers. A siren’s melody put in a trance, A map to
The once clean and pure waters of the ocean, Pure, What does that even mean? Where whales, dolphins, fish swam freely, With the course of nature and life. No interference by humans. The ocean is as beautiful as wild animals
When I am alone in the ocean I can hear the echoes of my thoughts; they reflect off of seamless undulations of the majestically powerful sea. The alluring waves placate my subconscious – as if a doting mother rocking a