Changed Yet Changeless

 

I hear the beats of winter feet-

in delight they caper,

chasing one foot with the other-

shivering trees bear

the brunt of her kicking legs;

her fox-trot and cha-cha-

is she aware

forever will not last her crescendo-

I await

the dolce movement of her show

when she lights up into green-

“The poetry of earth is” never ceasing

 

 

Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Changes hosted by Susan and Sumana

Longing

Now I long

for all the beauty lost

from words and deeds-

I wish to knit peace

to wrap

this homeless, orphan,

careworn world-

the sun is sinking

and wintry night prowls about-

I bide my time

till ‘proud-pied April* arrives-

*in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 92

 

 

 

Posted for my prompt ~ Longing@ Poets United Midweek Motif

Awakening

 

A nightly garden looks at me

With its owl eye

Asking as it were, are you awake?

Yes, yes, say I

And I won’t crush your darkness

With my light-

You breathe peace and rest

I am no more afraid-

Come, hold my hand

And on this brink of time

Let us stand-

 

 

Posted for Susan’s midweek Motif ~ Awakening @ Poets United

Authenticity

 

I’d never be a glass house,

with each inch truth made,

brightly lit and transparent-

no, not me-

let me be the thick, opaque brick dwelling-

a window of sunlight truth is enough

to live in this world-

I am what I am

a little trace of mellowed truth-

speaking moonbeam words-

none would be hurt-

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Authenticity @ Poets United

Forgiveness

 

I am often gripped by feral anger-

caught between its teeth-

there is a tragic pile of my feathers

by the side of the sanctuary

called forgiveness-

I have lost the way to it-

when the grip loosens

I am all bruised within-

to one, standing on the lowest rung of the ladder

to forgive is divine-

 

Posted for my prompt ~ Forgiveness @ Poets United Midweek Motif

Ghee

GOOGLE IMAGE

 

How does the ghee taste?

It tastes like the ghee.

The buttery content,

the delicious aroma,

the golden color,

the heavenly touch

is purity itself.

In the world of Indian cuisine

ghee is the ruling monarch-

if I time travel to our ancient times

of over five thousand years-

I would still find rishis and sages

performing fire rituals

with ghee-

mantras, aromatic and fiery

rising above

radiating blessings

to the trees, rocks, rivers, mountains,

to all life forms-

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ The Food We Eat @ Poets United

Tagore

 

Your words are the buzz-song

of a bee-

dripping sweetness unto

my tattered soul-

I have morphed into

a thousand honeycomb

holding your nectar-

this world isn’t all honey-

when it stings I sing your forever song

to be lifted up, to fly

with my newly grown wings-

 

Posted for my prompt Honey / Bee @ Poets United Midweek Motif

Vigilance

The Ganga begins her journey here at Devprayag

 

We never remained vigilant

So we let thunderous waves

of foreign invasions-

crush us-

we were looted-

got ourselves

killed-

now look at the confluence

of Bhagirathi and Alakananda

where the beautiful Ganga comes alive-

we are still not vigilant-

so we let the turquoise Ganga weep

till She is noir

before She pours Herself into the sea-

 

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Vigilance @ Poets United

But All Must Be Endured

 

But all must be endured, since even a poor

soul too is made of fire and ice-

while a part of me gets dismantled in silence

the other half keeps gathering my shards to

       go on living.

 

My frenzied heart seeks the god mesmerized

by your honeyed words-

I hold my tongue that craves to expand its hood

       at mere sight of you-

 

your tinkling laughter at sweet nothings

sets my voice to fume;

yet I compel it to devour a sacred silence

      to burst forth in words later-

 

While you make the god to look into your eyes

a flame in me runs wild

to dip my spirit into a black fluid; to make

      your god my muse-

 

My poem is a response to Sappho’s apparently incomplete poem : In my eyes he matches the gods

 

 

 

Posted for Sanaa’s Wild Friday @ Poets United

Looking at Stars

SAPTARSHI MANDAL (URSA MAJOR)

 

The radiant question mark of seven stars

leaning on me

has breath and voice of my father-

“Look, there’s the Saptarshi Mandal,

asking you if you knew the Sapta Rishis?”

said he one night-

“Of course, I know, they are the seven sages

blessing us-

their smile is the light”-

my father let me be happy

with whatever fairy-tale knowledge I had

of Great Bear Constellation-

since that day

I grew a bond with this star-cluster

that held me, my father and the Indian myth together-

 

 

Posted for my prompt ~ Looking at Stars @ Poets United Midweek Motif