Suffering and Thanksgiving twin sisters

Suffering  and Thanksgiving twin  sisters.

The   long  voyurage,

Sea  ruffled  weather

feverish  hectic  holding  you

In the  midway,  mid sea,

Gnarling   waves ,

Magic  wand  of  creator,

Waves  touching   the   Moon,

 Eerie   nightfall, 

Days  and   nights   pass by,

Sceptic   if   you  would  

Reach    destination,

Afraid  if   your    Death’s Paw

Sure  to  grip  you   soon,

Finally   reach  ashore,

Many  thanksgiving,

Thanks, thanks  ,

Thank  ye, Gods,

For   being  with   me

Throughout  this   tricky

Journey, want   not  anything,

But  YOUR  WATCHFUL  HANDS.    

Dream

Dream

In   my  noon   siesta,

I  dreamt   of   thousand 

Memories,  colorful  vistas,

Ambitions  stretching  far , and far,

Sailing   into    many    realms,

Overconfidence   giving it

A  colorful    glee,

Soon    all  those   memories

Galore   reshaped  into   a

Big  dream of  nothingness

A  void :  I    wake  up  

To  see  only  an 

Empty    space.

October poem

                 October   poem.

  In   God’s  calendar  of   foregone

 Settings,  seasons   mostly  indulge

 In   fair  play. There   ought  to  be

  never  Room  for    umbrage.   

The  gardener’s  pail   sedate

Now  in  a corner, the  soil-  smelling

Sharp  bladed  grass   wails  to

The   windy, slow,   darkening, sky.

Not  merely  sore     bitter  feelings,

 Nor  Memory    whet   by  corrugated

Surroundings    like  secret hideouts,

Yet   you  crave   herbal  treatment:

 This    bugging   ortho    on the left  arm,

drives  me  to  the  bunch  of  leaves,

Grandma’s   celebrated  herbal  remedy,

Multi   purpose    Tulsi    leaves  rescue  me.

 The    crumbled  golden  leaves

Don’t  grumble  their   age’s   countdown,

Accept  demure , resign  to  their   Mother,

Different  from  mankind.

 October’s   Morn  is  slow

More  dignified  a  maiden,

 You  continue    Walk   with  me.  

Come   ye, October!

poetry in com (motion)

           Poetry is com(motion).

Today  is  national poetry  day,

My contemplative  Muse, agile

By my side,  gently dictates,

Type  as it comes  and inspires,

Don’t go by alignments   now,

I   wander  to  the  riverside

Of  my  younger days, lie  by

The  sand, watch  the gurgling 

Waters,  fish   move  along,

Beautiful  fins  glitter  in the

Ripples,   crabs   monopolize

The   sand dunes, playing,

I   look up the    starry  skies ,

Sun,   stars  ,moon    and rivers

don’t   have  karma  or

Consciousness, they    are

Carefree :  they  are    happily    static,

 only  we  struggle

With   the   baggage   going

Before us, they   drag    us  along

Meticulously  during  the  sojourn,

Still   the   age  long   query  lingers,

Why  I came? Where  do  we go?

This  tiresome  journey  knocks 

Mercilessly:  it  is   eventide

Slowly   merging  with 

Amber ed   Sun  to   His 

Majestic  abode of  Shift.

Dogs   bark  in  mistaken

Identity  at  the  fallen 

Mound of    leafage.

Poetry  in motion

Now  covers up my  commotion.