Radhamani sarma
This moon and shine,
beauty and
mystery
growth and slow recede,
taunt and provoke;
no history , no complete vision;
still I am around its journey.
Time
circles, enters boundaryless,
Day and night enter, making
A wandering wonder
For all humans and animals
Who stand rest by it.
A mystery unsolved
Till the end , only a dream like;
A sweet mystery,
beyond comprehension,
love and curiosity
loss and reconcile
all intertwine.
This universal
Lunar beauty,
I ever bow
before.
The bird flies away….
On tree top
a tiny bird
With growing
tender feathers,
The edge
being narrowed down,
Watches here
and there;
The bird’s cute small eyes
Foraying the
world with a sharp
World view
like a philosopher;
Chirp and
notes for us,
Calling time and again
For our
attention immediate;
As if a warning, not to be immersed
In worldly attitude,
A danger one
must avoid;
A leaf or
another feather
Just a pick
at its call quick
Quick for
its quick flight
Immediacy its
another world;
I only watch
with a diction of prediction
how small we are!
In the tunnel of summer, guardian April 23
Why, where and how fast time fleets?
This wrinkled skin and tender skin,
Competing with time often
A recycling edge:
Strong recollection as I sit
In park’s bench and ruminate,
Just fading sun in summer this eve,
How many summers spent in work
mindless of other cadences,
whether eight or eighteen or eighty,
end of life rolling in the past,
present and future ,
fruits and grains mix,
blood and memory ,
still I am asleep , half asleep
looking through the window….
RADHAMANI SARMA
e North wind
The soft and harsh wind from North,
Its move and unrestrained move,
Again blow
blow free,
In the morn
;
I grew up in
childhood
Memories, sad
moments
At times merry, sober,
Sad, a
vision of gloom,
All again in
me embedded
By North
wind’s blow and sweep;
I envy Winds’
blow impartial
A spirit
planned by HIS WILL;
ITS language
is a voice,
Special and appeal to me;
Its free
play in this cruel world
A stay amidst wild storms,
Rocky mountains,
hard villains,
What purpose
it serves,
As if it
mourns,
I am a mute witness
In this world where
There is no
other go
I hug thee
north wind.
No better
teacher can be,
There ruling
in life’s path,
No remedy one
seeks ever,
My own
pangs, untold misery,
My making ,my
being in this world,
All for self
and serenity,
A moment’s
lesson,
Augmented by
introspection;
Where can I go
?
The unanswered
question now,
Yields, you
be a master of yourself,
Think and leap ahead,
Poetry and prose,
by my side,
With His supreme Guidance,
Never will
you down.
March ahead
, plunge into deeper thoughts,
To a
different haven .
