Words in a waltz

With all the manner of reality shows thriving by the hordes, one is bound to get bemused about who’s betrothed to whom, who ate worms to whet whose whim, which hunk turned out as the true stalwart, which tyro got hired, and which, fired, and last but not the least, whether they were all twins, quadruplets, or simply from different planets. First there was a bunch of adventurous freaks trying to win a princely treasure by traversing plains and mounds tinged with high-profile jeopardy, then a compatibility check for a bunch of ex-classmates that moved into the same house, a sexual orientation sensitivity probe for a damsel in distress, seeking her prince charming, an over-the-top private peek into the everyday life of a newlywed celebrity couple, and then an excruciating obnoxious-fiancé test for a pretty young thing, among scores of others.

Makes one wonder - just how far will the makers of these dare-all bare-all shows go to entice viewers? Does a “wife-swapper” thingamajig sound like the sort of regalement young minds have been aching for? And will they be able to relate even remotely to a young lady that will soon be seen in bigger dilemma, as she attempts to discern which of a dozen-odd of men is actually her father? Is life not reasonably real enough? At this rate, one ought to be mighty wary of cameras and any other gadgets that seem even faintly iffy, no matter where one is. Imagine waking up to a hidden camera in your living room, or worse, in the bath. In this ocean of borrowed mommies and recycled daddies, one wonders whether the offspring are theirs to keep, or loan to yet another goofy reality act.

When summertime dawns
honeyed skies bleed
on thirsting lives

Gardens bask in the briskness
bearing their blossoms out,
as if in gratitude

Seas beckon the crescent
in dimpled laughter,
swelling with pride

No hazy obscurities,
nor gray clouds,
shall quell the Sun’s splendor

Even when darkness descends
and angst abounds
His stars rouse and light the depths.