Shrubs to shield,
If not hide,
Roving urban eyes,
Brown, short tufts,
Struggling in heat,
Earth meets hoary blue,
Sweating electric tall
dwarfs blanked thoughts
The stillness of nothingness
The search for you
In this long hall of continental silence,
Lighted by shafts of aureolic darkness,
Socratic, and so despairingly intense,
My land graffiti of a fifty one scars,
Swiped by ruthless extricators,
Left me, landless, impoverished,
Dug long interred stones and bones,
Set me to insensate, blunt sword,
Stole many splendoured nugget,
Diamond in fashion shows trotted,
Bedecked Saxonian breasts
Dowried Teutonic crests,
In arrogance, they seek,
Me and my kings so meek,
Hurried ,humble yet humiliated,
They said we had lost,
History they wrote,
Wait for your aid,
which is but your invest.
In my wretched state,
I am patient yet.
Me and quietude, beside to share,
This west end of a long corridor,
Now a mute crest at some rest,
Eyes straining the night, to reset,
Experiencing a calm emptiness,
Reflective stimulus, this darkness,
Power cuts soothe my grilled nerves,
Thoughts are shorn of frills or swerves,
Short left my false, winding lanes,
Now traverse penurious strains,
Riotous colours of yesterday,
Uncivil, unsure, rigorous today,
Thunderstorms nudge my door,
Past them tall gates of fear,
Mud, brown, exuberant, so, ajar,
Raindrops tug, whistle, tear,
Trickle past the colonial wire
Rolled, barbed, now to retire,
Meditate, open my third eye,
Smear myself in ashes dry
To see , to feel,
I am most resplendent ere my fall,
The high and the low are all just falling leaves.
The wind and the winter are non-discriminatory.
Heaps of fallen leaves which make way on completion of purpose.
Trees are stark and bare out withstanding those icicles…
We all have rebirth in Spring.
When I set out it looked like it would rain heavy. There were them clouds that seemed to reflect my fears.
With apprehensions gnawing , I relaxed a bit by staring out. Then came them
trees who teach me the biggest lesson of my life : the most beautiful moments in one’s life are just ere you pass away to fall on to Mother Earth.
Rain that threatened never fell. The colors nibbled at my thoughts and soothened my feelings.
Continue reading “The Road To My Friend’s Home”
Me deserted by my friend.
His house once a home, now locked.
Shadows though not even a street light,
The walls may have some memories,
Of who hesitated to enter , now barricaded,
The dust on the grills have rusts, of who dared enter,
Searched responseless for a friend, and withdrew,
Told, he a migrant now.
Toiling hard, fortune seeker,
Even in the searing heat of noon,
Must be feeling cold in sweat,
Seeking out to live a life of grandeur,
But here is where we laughed rich and loud,
We now just live our lives so quiet.