Truth

Truth is a dewy rose

brimming with thorns–

Truth is a mother eagle

ready with her talons–

Truth is a shy sunrise

as well as moonless nights–

Truth is Thou

and also a dappled I—

 

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

My Lone Hibiscus Tree

 

I have never seen such a merry shrub like my lone hibiscus. Always blowing saffron trumpets in mirth. Only a couple of days ago my tree winked at me with a radiant, crimson hibiscus, looking like the rising sun among all its saffron siblings. Come sunshine or rain she is never without her natural glee. At night she crowns herself with swarms of fireflies. In monsoon she is a citadel to the garrison of snails. May be they visit to make a meal of leaves which she provides with her leafy levity. She is a home to a chameleon couple too who often give me angry looks with their rotating, protruding eyes probably because unable to manage my size with their long, extensible tongue.

 

A few years back, when my home was not as empty as it is now my tree surprised me with a bird’s happy nest with fledglings and their busy parents.

 

My summer room

Has clammy days, fragrant nights

And sporadic storms

 

 

Posted for my prompt ~ A Tribute Poem @ Poets United Midweek Motif

Happiness Is A Doyel Bird

 

 

My skin almost melted

my nostrils burnt

my soul was a withered flower

lying about the dusty, parched

and gasping earth-

for a cool breath of miracle-

that comes down

from the sky-

it came yesterday-

along with it

came Happiness

in the form of a Doyel*–

sitting on the grill

it whistled-

filling me with blessings-

I became the rolling clouds

I became the falling rain

I became a thousand leaves

and let drip these drops of grace

like Kisame**

 

 

*A Bengali word for Oriental Magpie Robin

**‘Kisame’ refers to rain that drips from leaves. Just learnt this Japanese word from fellow poet Toni Spencer and used it.

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ HappinessSusan’s Midweek Motif ~ Happiness @ Poets United

Water

 

Water is to remain

in the lines

of Basho:

Old pond / frogs jumped in / sound of water

while we all will be

choked

and wood hard;

this planet

won’t even cough out a drop

while water will flow

in the pages of poets

though there would be none

to read Emily: Water is taught by thirst-

Now……

I can see the invisible marchers

with flags of yellow sand

blowing in fiery wind

slowly and surely

coming upon us-

 

Posted for my prompt Water @ Poets United Midweek Motif