The Rage – A Dialogue with Myself.

This rage was never the enemy,
But the guardian that forgot its plea,
To love the child behind the storm,
To keep the fragile safe and warm.

I. The Beast Awakens
It comes unbidden, this electric flood,
Coiling through my veins like poisoned blood.
A serpent startled from its rest,
My tongue turns torch, my chest compressed,
Every muscle tightened to fight…
But where’s the threat? Where shines the light?

II. The Illusion
See how cleverly delusion plays
A wrong word, a twisted glance, a slight delay
Become the monsters in your way.
The enemy you think you see
Is but your own fragility,
Dressed in shadows nourished bestially…

III. The Aftermath
Now silence hangs like acrid smoke,
Where love once stood, now fractures poke.
The wreckage glistens, sharp and cruel,
Each broken piece reflecting: I’m the fool.
How deep this chasm where I drown.
No bottom, just the falling sound…

IV. The Alchemy
Ah, but this rage that burns so bright
Is frozen lightning, trapped sunlight!
Beneath the ash, embers still glow,
Not to destroy, but to know.
That emptiness you fear to face?
That’s where we’ll build the sacred space.

V. The Return
The serpent now uncoils, at rest,
No more a knife within my chest,
But a golden cord from earth to sky,
This power that once made me cry
Now lifts me where the eagles fly…
And so I smile: “That’s why.”

Acharya Tadany.
Poetic Meditation.
Pune, 06 April 2025.

Post Meditation

This rage was never the enemy,
But the guardian that forgot its plea,
To love the child behind the storm,
To keep the fragile safe and warm.
Now every shadow has its day,
Not to obscure, but light the way.

Photo by Andrey Zvyagintsev on Unsplash