Deep sea stretched away
From shale and shingle and sand,
The world extended.
Deep Sea
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Category Archives: Poetry
Footprints
Footprints in the sand
Mark progress in weedy shore,
Marks of trailblazing.
The Swing
Swing up, swing down,
Swing high, swing low!
From mango tree
Or guava tree branches,
The swing rope tautened
While the wooden seat steadied.
The legs kicked up
Into the clouds
And folded back
To pull into position
For the next kick.
Effervescent joy bubbled up
And echoes of raucous laughter
Carried back between swings
Up into the skies.
From the height,
The world could be seen,
From top to bottom,
As if from bird’s-eye-view.
The air became thinner
At the high point
Of the trajectory
When the swing swung
Back and forth like a pendulum.
A child in infantile chortle
And a hard-bitten yet jolly adult
Could both feel the abandon
Of tetherless freedom
And undescribed ecstasy.
All the cares of the world were shed
Until the swinging became slower,
Legs became weaker
Till they reached placid ground
And met with mundane realism.
Assissi of Love
Gleaming in the sunlight,
Assissi lay hugging the west incline
Of Monte Subasio in Umbria-
A fortress, a refuge, a goal
For seekers of self and soul.
The barefooted mendicant
Blessed the medieval cobblestones
That paved the the narrow streets,
Meandering up and down, skirting
Around homes and stores.
There Francis spoke,
Embracing a larger world,
To the sun and the moon,
The birds and the beasts
And all creation
That trod across the planet.
Assissi proudly witnessed a love,
Brotherly and sisterly,
Without constraints and restraints
Of highs and lows,
The rich and the poor,
Enveloping and embracing
All of humanity.
Why?
When did grey clouds appear
Suddenly to blot out my sunshine?
The leaden sky loomed
Above my light-filled thoughts
And my gladness wavered
To fill me with morbid thoughts.
Why did my moods change
When images crowd in
To misshape my feelings,
To color my emotions,
And to play hide-and-seek
Through the portals of my mind?
My window panes,
Often streaked with crystalline drops
Of yesterday’s rains,
Made me witness the changes
In the outside world
In perplex reactions.
And should I change too?
Why can’t my rainbows
Stay iridescent always
To make all my days
Sunny and bright?
Tears
Tears are not mere salty drops
Shed from bloodshot eyes.
They are squeezed out
From broken hearts
And lacerated lives.
Often unnoticed
And hidden from knowing eyes,
They go uncherished.
Yet, they are precious-
Priceless pearls pulsating
With every heart beat
Of living hearts.
They tell the tales
Of moments in life;
They tell the tales
Of excruciating poignancy.
Me
I cannot ask;
I will not ask.
Denial mortified me!
I can only take
What is freely given.
I am not moss;
I am not vine.
I do not cling;
I do not burden.
I am just me!
Whisper of God
There is no one to share my laughter;
There is no one to wipe my tears.
In the waning rays of the sun,
I see the twilight of my years;
Shadows of coconut leaves crisscross
In the fading light like a lattice of memories.
Summer gales have ended
The green tumult of my youth;
I sit in solitude,
As autumn glides in aureate breeze
WIth gentle touches around my face
Calming the bygone vagaries and upheavals
Into maturing reflections
Of clemency and purgation.
In these quieted moments,
The fragrance of dusk wafts in
The redolence of jasmine and nightqueen
Spiced with the pungent lantana.
I look far into the bamboo grove
Where slender trunks rise up to the sky,
Swaying in the breeze, bowing right and left.
I hear the suspiration and sussuration
Of grassy leaves conversing
And I hear the whisper of God
Granting benediction.
I of Today
I became a person
I was not
When I said,”Yes”
At the altar.
In my twilight years,
In my solitude,
When I was
No more a green girl
In a world
Of social distancing
And self isolation,
I reverted back
To the undomesticated,
Totally oblivious me.
But years have added
Grains of wisdom
And I am, no more,
Totally clueless.
I have come to relish
Sweet memories
Of love and romance
Of yesteryears
And the filial
And sibling bonds
Crisscrossed
With maternal
And grandmaternal
Cares and doting.
PRIMAL QUESTION
Winter stays reluctant to leave
And spring waits in the shadows;
The frozen grass is stubbornly stiff
And the sleeping buds refuse to open.
Regrets stay buried
Frozen under the ice
Hesitant to be taken out
To thaw and to correct.
What right do I have
To bury my regrets
To start a new life,
Pristine and unblemished?
RosyView 