Posts tagged ‘Poetry’
Is
A movement
of images
A dance
of words
A ballet
of feelings
A kaleidoscope
of impressions
A cloudburst
of emotions
My naked
thoughts
in party attire
To delight
Amuse
Surprise
and render
speechless sometimes
A few words written
without music
Yet in tune
and always
an offering
April 14th 2011
(By the sheer Grace of my Teachers)
Falling
Falling
Falling
Fallen Leaves
In all hues
Mostly yellow
Ochre, dull gold, brown, yellow again
Not a place where a fallen leaf has not
Fallen
Dropping
Shedding
Replacing
Piled high on street corners
In parks and on side-walks
Under-foot and in my face
Rustle
Rustle
Rustle
Tender Crumpled Delicate
Each different from its sibling
The building blocks of forests
The laboratory of trees
Houses, furniture
Books, comforts
Conveniences
Built by leaves
Now falling
Falling
Fallen
Have you ever lain on a bed of fallen leaves?
April 12th 2011
Unmoving, she sits, majestic and resplendent –
Eyes closed, whiskers fanned, ears perked, tail tucked –
Statuesque and perfectly still
Impatiently, I move, unable to ease neither body, nor mind into stillness –
Eyes fluttering, muscles tense, ears alert, legs restless –
Un-stately and agitated.
Silent and serene, she maintains his pose –
Aware of external sounds, yet disregarding them
Born in an alley, her birth, a mystery,
Broken leg and sliced tail, her brief history
Imbedded in feline memory so vivid,
Anyone approaching, the kitten got livid
Abandoned and rescued, she was alive,
Put up for adoption so she may survive.
Scratched and meowed at those that called,
Nobody wanted this mongrel at all.
Till along came a soul with a heart of gold
Saw the pain behind big eyes so bold;
Lifted her up and took her home
As simple as that, she need never roam.
She lies on her bed in deep repose
Flat on her back, straight till her toes
Opening her eyes to acknowledge and see
A smile and squeeze of hand is rendered to me
I wish I was that mountain, still, majestic by itself.
I wish I was that cloud, adrift, in an azure sky.
I wish I was this rosebud, pink, waiting to be opened.
I wish I was that pine tree, tall, whistling in the wind.
I wish I was the colour, green, in a tuft of grass.
I wish I was that fragrance, sweet, in a frangipani flower.
I wish I was that voice, divine, in a koel’s song.
I wish I was that beaming smile, upon a friendly face.
Who knows I may have been them all, once upon a time?
Who knows I may be them again, in another time…
February 2009
May I be free to soar high like a kite on an endless ride,
May I be free to swim like a whale one with the tide.
May I be free to swing like a trapeze artist without any fear,
May I be free to swivel like a cat on a roundabout chair!
May I be free to sway like a shadow attached to no form,
The Quiet Sky 