16.11.17

What Dreams Are made Of?

Ask a child what dreams are made of?
For a child,
Dreams are dipped in chocolate and marmalade,
A yummy sweet candy and uncountable holidays.

Ask a bird what dreams are made of?
For a bird,
Dreams are seeds, spread lavishly,
A cage free life, flying refreshingly.

Ask a youth what dreams are made of?
For a youth,
Dreams are conquering the impossible,
Rising towards the sky unstoppable.

Ask an old man what dreams are made of?
For an old man,
Dreams are nothing, but scattered imaginations,
For him they are just whims and fascinations.

Ask a wanderer what dreams are made of?
A wanderer,
Dreams of a perfect world,
A world welcoming all, where truth unfurls.



2.11.17

Secret Desires


Secret desires,
flow through,
poems,
bathing,
my flesh,
in your aroma.

As night,
descends,
with her moon,
our thoughts,
become one.

1.11.17

Who Is Who?


Oh! Great Saints,
my mind hurts in vain,
heal my soul,
relieve me from this pain,
and the questions unanswered…………….

We dance to the universal rhythms,
the cosmic vibrations we unknowingly follow,
thinking of them as our great endeavours.

Everything is set,
the pattern, the path, the words,
we merely step on them,
and consider as our chosen world.

Call it hard work, luck or destiny,
we fail, we rise, we do what we do,
and name it our will.

But, who is pulling the strings?
Who is the master puppeteer?

The one with the trident?
Or
Our mind’s own fallacies?

{Note: In Hinduism, God Shiva holds Trident.}

31.10.17

Autumn in City

On these long trailing charcoal roads,
colourful leaves loiter around,
 a nature's carpet on  concrete.

City dwellers rejoice the scene,
this tiny thing of joy,
paints the landscape in between.

A city that shines in neon lights,
knows not of earthy lights,
prays to the sky, moon and stars,
to sprinkle glitter on the dark.

A balmy air with scented leaves,
reminds the city of autumnal treats.


23.10.17

The Tiny Seed

The tiny seed,
knows not of its power,
that sleeps within.

Fertile ground,
its nurturing sound,
a home the tiny seed has found.

Rainy love,
from skies above,
drenches the seed,
shaping its need.

Buds sprout,
happily spring out,
a labour of love.

Shoots gaze,
to the blue yonder with maze,
dreaming of it unfazed.

The tree rises,
step by step
up and up.

The power of seed,
now,
this tree holds.

A story of faith,
the tiny seed unfolds.

First published in "The Ashvamegh International Journal & Literary Magazine"

16.10.17

Sprawling Autumn Ground

Sprawling autumn ground,
displays beauty, astound.

It's crystal clear ponds,
 teem with life,far and beyond,
fragrant floral blooms,
absorb life's gloom.

Ah! beautiful autumn,
gives a message so important,
to forget and forgive,
to live and let live.

11.10.17

Autumn Fest

Arrives secretly and majestically,

Under the burrows, above the trees,

Takes away summery breeze,

Umber shades in red, orange traces,

Mix with green leafy faces,

Now, is the time for bounty harvest.

                                                              ~ Autumn is the season,
                                                                 celebrating life’s fest.