phases of moon and me

I am the moon and I play a game,

I don’t always look the same.

Sometimes I am round,

A silver sphere.

Sometimes just half of me,

Seems to be here.

Sometimes I am crescent,

Shaped like a smile.

Sometimes I surprise you,

And hide for a while.

Look up in the sky,

For my friendly light.

What shape will I have

When you see me tonight?

Mind and heart

Unaccountably we are alone

Forever alone

And it was meant to be

That way,

It was never meant

To be any other way

And when the death struggle begins

The last thing I wish to see is

A ring of human faces

Hovering over me

Better just my old friends,

The walls of myself,

Let only them be there.

I have been alone but seldom

Lonely

I have satisfied my thirst

At the well of myself

And that wine was good,

The best I ever had,

And tonight sitting.

Seeing into the dark

I now finally understand

The dark and the light and everything

In between.

ocean of emotions

Before twilight

that night

the letter I did write

realizing I was no longer your Snow White,

when it seemed as though no one cared,

my heart broke and sunk into an ocean of emotion,

Because you hadn't replied,

my love 

my heart had died

with an anchor tied to weigh it down.

I could've drowned in my glass tears

for they fell on deaf ears;

it seemed as though I had cried 

my life 

my soul 

out through my eyes.

So I went out not too far

just to my car

and cried to the heavens:

"For today I have feigned (hope)

Take away my pain

my sorrow

my anguish;

make these feelings cease

in return for peace.

It doesn't seem like an equal trade,

but for my actions I have already paid."

I can't lean or be seen

crying on my own shoulder.

These feelings making my heart colder,

smoldering with hate.

I'm just irrate

because our dates 

and fate you did abate,

you can't relate

to the feelings I dictate

and don't negate 

those emotions I know

you hide below.

No more souls aglow

you're no longer my beau,

but you've dealt me the blow

of my life.

But the man upstairs 

cares about 

my affairs,

and heard my prayers.

He cried with me 

(the rain that night)

for me

to see

that I wasn't alone.

My heart was sewn,

and no longer do I moan

and groan

about the gravestone 

that you gave to me.

To a butterfly

I have watched you now full a half-hour,

Self-poised upon that yellow flower,

And little butterfly! Indeed.

I know not if you sleep or feed,

How motionless! - not frozen seas

More motionless!  - and then,

What joy awaits you when the breeze

Have found you among the trees,

And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;

My trees they are; my sister's flowers;

Here rest your wings when they are weary;

Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!

We'll talk of sunshine and of song,

And summer days when we were young;

Sweet childish days, that were as long

As twenty's are now.

Mandala -The eternal peace of thoughts

Mandala – eternal peace of thoughts.

The below mandala is the from where there is a lot of doodle work then the design patterns. The main reason I made this mandala was the MUSLIM BAN in U.S. it is a sketch of a lady wearing a colorful  hijab instead of black showing them how colourful the life of muslims is.

            I believe the more you open up your mind and thoughts in your art form the more relief you get. When the art is a piece of your creativity and you are known for your art work . there’s no other blessing for life then this.

            The more we are connecting in drawing out of natural thinking and being involved, the more you will see and you will- after a time of trial- be able to draw all what you like to.

            So believe that this will also happen to you, I am sure you will get there. I wish you very much fun with your own mandala, that are all of them stands for the power of life.

Dear greetings,

Shweta Dodtale