Sunday, December 30, 2018

After Guardian- At the back of the head


After Guardian-  At the back of the head

At the back of your head
Don’t surmise only black curls
 dominating over,  beyond  these
a kingdom from whence you see
a galaxy of stars, a world of unknown
region where most of us merge
after some time; don’t ask if we can
speak or see  or visualize future
from there,  a mysterious horizon.

I don’t see you or your eyes,
Your mouth or complexion,
But only the mystery of this
Galaxy, stars and moon, flow
Of rivers  and falls on mountains;
Nature’s  Beauty and  Marvel,
Creator’s magic wand and flute
Silencing our earth;





Saturday, December 22, 2018

Time's ringtone


Time’s ringtone

 Like a  wary watchman, Time waits
 without  compromising his own sense of Time;
 Time is the healer,time is the tester,
 a good recordation in our diary
  carrying us through  hazards and
   secrets of success every minute.
   in all our steps and  serendipity,
  Young or senile, time like a  creeper
 coils round  like ringlets to shine on
 furthering  our beauty and glow
 or with a  different coloring  shade
 on our  aging process.
 Whether be setting   Sun  or falling leaves
In the autumnal parade, or Spring’s moods
jubilant and serenading, Time’s flavor
always runs in, ringtone ever singing.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

nothing happens


Guardian’s Event


Nothing is happening,
In this ever happening,
Eventful  creation;
toad croaks, water drops,
gossamer faint glimmers all
around the earth and you
tread slowly in all panic;
nothing happens.
Sunsets and rising on the
Eastern horizon, how do
The orange embers disappear
And  appear, nothing happens still.

Where  is the unused space here?
So much of inhabitation, so little space ;
Birds and buds blossoming still,
I see  a void still, nothing  happens.
In the stillness of humanity, I see
So much  is to happen,yet nothing happens.


Thursday, December 13, 2018

Tree’s pride and plight



Tree’s  pride and  plight

Interspersed with my
Thick green foliage,
a swarm of bees and  berries,
day’s call and copious  buzz.

At noon, a surreptitious    caterpillar
pair with the  pained bloom,
not shedding but sharing with the
clustered clan ever accommodating.

At dawn, crows black princed,
covey of parrots with green livery
Pride with the parentage,
their wings a  see saw fritter ever,

until a thud of wind sweep and
dogs bark gathering all shiver
my kith and kin of neighborhood
silenced into  shrunken chamber.

I wait for Spring’s advent
to reshape my defunct call
can I see again my broad spectrum?
Under which many umbrellas  figure in.




  










Saturday, December 08, 2018

Poem of the week: Sonnet – September 1922 by Ivor Gurney



He is divinely unique;
He does not get annoyed  or upset
if he is infuriated or hurt beyond limit;
because he is a thinking person
taking everything in the right spirit.
Water and fun, sunrise and sunset
don’t clamor ill will or rancour

we may not be a toad, or sly cat,
need not be a ferocious lion, neither
tardy nor haste in our midst,
but practice the pristine calm
of control and  cool unless pushed
to  the extreme. Be a butterfly in the
 twisting world, spinning around;

we keep spinning around the earth,
as it spins round day  and night,
our anger and  ill will have their
moments of success  and  defeats.