Sunday, April 22, 2012

Footprints on sand

Trail of footsteps behind me

Footprints in sand

The white foam of the ocean wave

Erasing them

Or taking them into its waters

The breeze, the ocean,

The waves stroking at my feet

And then retreating

The ocean...looking unending

Merging into eternal skies

Yet seeming near

It's intimacy with my thoughts

It's bond with my feelings

As if i see all of life in it's vast waters

Perhaps it speaks to me of birth and rise

Like it's new-born wave crest far away

Rises into a high tide

Or it speaks of a welcoming

As it accepts the sunrays of dawn in summer,

The first rain of the monsoon

It beacons the path of winds

And sacrifices it's water to the sky

It flows as a cycle

The ocean glides violently

With the howl of wind

Again it cradles the air softly

Peacefully...it's growl

turning into a lullaby

The same ocean inspires me

As i stroll on wet sand

It takes me to the world of treasured thoughts

Sometimes to memories...sometimes to imagination

Then the lines take shape in my mind

So fresh, so pure, so spontaneous

I collect pearl-shells that stop at my bare feet

And rush back to write my words

The ocean draws me back

And seizes my words

I don't regret losing them to the ocean

Because as it sways triumphantly

It soothes my heart

I wonder, maybe the words aren't great enough to describe it

Perhaps the feel of it, the sight of it cannot be written

Again i relish my footprints in sand

And the feel of ocean waves at my feet...

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Shades of the Sky

as I see the world
bathed in the setting sun
as I see the colours
crimson orange yellow
fading into the blue
of the sky
blotched with the white of the clouds
as they form shades of purple
and darken into mauve
mauve purple lavender white
the clouds start grouping
the white turns to grey to black
shadowing the rugged mud floor
and then I look at the sky again
a little drop of icy water falls on my cheek
and then a few more
and then all around me
raindrops that drench me in colours of the sky
then the colour of the sky turns
crimson orange yellow to mauve to purple
to lavender and white and grey
and now to clear blue
crystal clear as a sapphire
amongst thousands of raindrops
the sun chooses one
and penetrates through the diamond
that shines with the sun's saffron shade
out it throws a path of seven colours
violet indigo blue green yellow orange red
on the clear blue...
and relishes me with the shades of the sky...

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Awaiting

Wandering lonely in this dark night,

Eyes at the city lights

But seeing somewhere far away

Awaiting a star...

When eyes trace a horizon

Wherefrom alight may dawn

Awaiting the brightest sun

On this quiet new moon

I stand still as a rock

The moist breeze blows past

It cannot move me

It cannot fulfil my toil

A smile on my lips

No humour, no pleasure either

Just a burning hope

A waiting...

Today I shed no tear

Today I bear no sorrow

For all this had hardened me

Strengthened my heart to rock

Today I’m just awaiting...

Autumn

Like dried up leaves are shed down

When loved ones let you down

Only the green are held up tight

The yellow-orange are forgotten

How green and pure they used to be

When they swayed in wind

On that forgotten day

The wind never blows with them today

It just blows past the forgotten

Making fresh the wounds of time

And making moist the memories of love...

A poet's world

He sits in his world of delight

Thinks of all he wants to tell

His canvas, a plain page

His pen, his paintbrush

And when his pen paints colours of ink

He calls himself a painter,

The world calls him a poet

He paints every word with care

Like precious beads on string

Like jasmine flowers in thread

Sometimes his tears turn to ink

Sometimes his smiles to words

Some days he writes and cries

Some days he cries and writes...

Sometimes he writes in pain

Sometimes in toil

Sometimes with content

Sometimes with love

He writes of love and hatred

And of war the world suffers

He writes of kids licking ice-creams

And of families on holidays


He shares his world with the world

He shares his canvas with people

He paints his world

He paints his thoughts

He writes of what he sees

Of what he thinks and feels,

He shares the world’s joy

He shares the world’s grief

Not of diamonds and pearls he speaks

But of blooming flowers in spring

Yes, of dying and falling he speaks

But of rising again he writes...


Wind Chimes

They tinkle and jingle around my heart...

And like my heart they dance

Around their own subtle music

Across the small space between them and me

As they tinkle, my heart tinkles back-responding

And every tinkle of the wind chimes

Echoes around my heart

Strikes every memory and echoes back

Gives me pain, gives me pleasure

Gives me tears both of glee and grief

The howl of wind shatters them

They break down into pieces

Irreparable pieces of my heart

They still swing and dance to the tune of air

Giving their tune to my song

My song of life only they can hear

Their song of music only I can hear...