Methinks it does good for certitude

Methinks  it  does   good  for   certitude,

Singing   and   merry   and  do  good

Be  a  good  Samaritan   always;

Be  it   Yule  or  New  Year,

“Be  his  merry ton”

Ringing     and   dancing;

Song  bird  in my balcony

“Craketh  a  merrie   note”                           

Methinks  it  does  good  for  certitude.

Wortes  to  the pot – my  garden 

Carries   a lot,  cure   and   serendipity

Methinks  it  does  good   for certitude. 

haiku

1) speedy  gale

 arresting   many  a  pulse

  stopover

2) branch falling

  creates  a  space  for   balcony

   gluttonous    View

3)  on  the  blade 

  Of  grass  sprout   many  a

  Strong  write

4)  the wind blasts

       staying   only  the  quill

          steady

5)    carrying    tiny   pot

    of  chronicles   spiraling  

     on her  head

6)  silk  saris  hiding

  millions  of  living  deaths

     hot   and  dry               

He is a good shepherd

He   is  a   good  shepherd

He  is  a  good  shepherd 

Who will not  abandon the  distressed,

Lost  and   long forgotten, even if  snows

Heavy  and  thick  and  he is  a good

Shepherd  who  searches pastures   anew.

But   a   lamb  from  afar   woefully  wails

butcher  and   shepherd  are the same.

I see it    run   and  bask   behind  a   mound

Innocent  and  scared; searches  for  its  clan.

A good  shepherd  protects  it now.

Not  only  the  sheep, lamb  and   flock,

The  shepherd  and   cowherd and  us,

The mortals in the  inhumane   coil,

We  all  run   the  race  under  the gates

Of  Heaven, cross  and    jump our

“Stubbled  grass”  and  mud.

He  protects  us all  ever   and  anon,

If only  cling  to   His   heel   and   Mercy.

haiku

          uprooting 

  speedy  gale not    menace

  but   a   mentor.

 Modified :

  dreadful  gale

  a  club on its  way

 trees   uprooted.

fierce  gale

angry  tap

many  aground

Ancient thread of our Roots ( Guardian)

Ancient    thread  of  our  roots   (Guardian)

We   all  return  to it,

Return  to  what, the  recurrent

Question   and   answer

 Like  spread cotton  seeds.

 A  silent  return,   as  if  

  a   resurrection  or resignation

To  the  roots  of  ancient  past

Of  primordial  wish, innocence,

Perpetuation   and   progeny;

Until  our   bodies  are  covered

With  the  homespun   thread of

Solidarity, flag  nodding   farewell

To  another   region. Muscular

Lover  drawn  and  submerged

to the  soil.

In my selfsame room

          In  my  selfsame  room

In  selfsame room of

my  choice   and  compact  style;

a  room  of  my own   Like   and  Make,

many  voices  creep in   like  jamboree

to  tune  me  to their    enticing  notes ;

it  is  a    room of  brick  and  mortar,

may  not  be  a    room of permanence,

but  methinks  ambiance  of permanence

of special  quality  prevails there.

Time  the  healer, Time  the  walker,

Time  the preacher, waiter ,tester, teaser

All  walk through  today the  Time

Silencer  and  abreast  frozen tongue.

Frozen Times

                      Frozen  Times.

   Sit  in  the pop corn  show

   Revel  at   the  tasteful  beauty

 Orderly  arranged  in  colorful  jars;

 Your  jerkin covers  you in

  Un forsaking  fidelity.

 Your   green  memory 

 In  its  rehearsal  plods

through weary  days,

 Prolongs   with you.

We    climb   through  hard

Blocks   of  multi   layers  of

Iceberg   of  our   times;

These  are  frozen   avenues.

In  the   frozen  times 

in the  congealed  hearts

our plight  of  Karma

hides  unable  to  take

its  wings  of  flight.
we  are in  frozen days.

In the midst of my writing

In  the  midst of  my   avid  writing,

Dictated  by  My   agile tap of

 Notes, Muse and  silent voice,

In  the midst of     Life,

 In the process of my dreams

 and  delving  deep into  the

  mysteries of   Nature,

  be it  a  wolf  in the paper

  be it an animal  with growl

 I dwell  in the “delicious dizziness”

 Of  my writing  oeuvre.

 My  wolf is  a  passive  spectator.

 I let  him come.