When rubbish flowers in a cemetery

March 9, 2011

The wind and my beloved

The wind and my beloved, both come and go
Hard to hold down, hard to let go.
Always moving me, both make me wait;
Another night, my dear, they seem to state.
Their touch on my moist lips and through my hair;
I close my eyes and feel them everywhere.
Bringing sounds, smells and stories of a different world
Both can be timid and both can be bold.
They stay for a season, and leave for a reason.
The wind and my beloved, both come and go
forever present, they freely flow.

March 3, 2011

Silent witness

The hand that moves ceaselessly,
It is a moment or eternity.
Ageless, nameless, faceless.

A moment of brightness at the birth of a child;
An eternity in waiting when love is blind.

Speeding through childhood, mindless in the teens;
testing in mid-life, endless for the 'have-beens'.

Motion that can't be stopped;
Just reminiscent or forgotten.
O silent witness, will you ever speak?
Of all you have seen, of all we seek.

May 20, 2009

She arrives

She sings a song of love and longing,
She sings a tune of beauty;
A breeze sometimes, sometimes a wind, or storm breaks into her body.

Lightening shines to show her the path and thunder announces her arrival,
the clouds all form an arch to welcome, birds sing tunes heartily.

Trees sway and dance in joy and squirrels scamper busily
Along with bees they hurry away for celebration and revelry.

Children come out and play hide and seek, their screams of glee are heard
The thunder scares them but they return, and jump in anticipation.

All eyes turn to the sky as the wind stops for a moment
lightening lights up eager eyes;
And finally she smiles at the welcome she gets
Giving away her gift of respite
A rainbow grins as well from the sky
Monsoon has arrived.


February 11, 2009

Night song

I breath in time with the cricket's sound
With the moon for light, I write.
The starry sky closes around me
and I feel I can fly.

Cool winter breeze listens to my humming
and blows a fragrance from trees afar,
Reminds me of a night in the forest
As a lone dog barks.

It is quiet in this jungle too
Just the sound of the train in the distance,
Someone closed their window for the night
And I opened my eyes to see
this sleepy world in a new light.


February 8, 2009

I talked to a bird

Sun’s rays slanted on the rooftop
And running water gurgled nearby
People too busy to notice such beauty
As birds sang sweetly in the sky.

It was still, not a breeze
And sunlight gave each tree a different hue
And on one such tree sat a little bird
With tiny little wings of blue.

Come sing dear bird, I called out gently
Sing a pleasant note of joy
Let me hear the cheerful chirp
And then you are free to fly.

The little bird stared with shiny black eyes
It seemed to pry my mind
And I felt it say I will not sing
Today I will not cry.

Today I’ll stare at the setting sun
That glows golden as ripe wheat
Let me take in this lovely sight
I do not want to sing.

And then the breeze blew cool and light
And shook the trees gently
I felt the evening pass away
So gaily, so thoughtfully.

December 9, 2008

An old friend of mine

One minute it calculates figures in the mind
another moment it forsees repercussions;
a love-hate relationship that refuses to leave
gives a high but troubles more.

Like an irritating friend, it keeps coming back
but cannot be turned away rudely though,
Like buttermilk, the stomach churns violently
heart thumps louder than before.

Fleeting thoughts, impulsive actions
are its fortress oh so strong,
we break them and make them, and cajole and crib
give in sometimes but resist more.

They insult the being, rake up the ego
that's how temptations work
we fight, we lie, we lose, we win
we but cannot ignore.

November 12, 2008

When winter comes...

Cold -- a feeling that hits within; pierces the skin,
constricts the flesh and,
drills through my bones.

Chill -- I feel it when my teeth hurt,
Goes down the spine and up and,
Gives goose bumps all over.

Shiver -- I feel it when my ears go red
when my skin cracks dry and,
touch is numbed.

Poor -- Yes I am and so I know
how all this really feels.
Without a strip of cloth
No morsel to eat,
I sit in this winter
Blowing at my bare feet.