TRANSITION OF THE EARTH

While moving in a train, it comes to my view,

The front of hills, the front of greens,

The front of clouds, the sky is ready to take

Everyone in its review, the day is bright, playing

Hide and seek with sunlight, shadowy and sunny,

Visible with clarity, greeting cheers, forming

Day time dance, almost singing, birds flying,

Essence of freedom is full of sense and tense.

The day is full of caesura, lines of a verse

Window of the train becomes passage of the earth,

As if it is classic awakening, pretty wellness, arising

From the dark, we are responding with singing,

Cadence with time and travel, wondering scene,

Sprouting of joy and introduction of rain, forming

Fortune of pupil’s vigor, we are experiencing it.

This nature’s royal attire reinvented, priceless. 

THROUGH THE WINDOW

Window panes open

Bed-room of my friend’s cottage.  

Outside unknown flower blooming

In neighbor’s garden.  

Mind flows with crystal sentiment,

That pleads for freeness from cage.

The grills of window seem iron barricade,

Into mission of soluble wisdom, hindered.

Flashing outside with flowers and

Green leaves of banana tree conglomerate.

Mind moves child-like,

Amid pristine bait of imperial sentiment.   

“I do not tear you.” Mind tells to the nature. 

WONDERFUL CLOUD

These clouds come out from the water of the earth,

They have thoroughfare, as programmed in air-path,

Tossed like tottered walks, yet firm with whitewash,

Making jewel of hovering water, quenching our thirst.

The blue has got the heart to hold them at far,

There they do move in freedom of mind we do search,

Here we upon the earth see their moment of purge

Forming water bubbles, to pour in ponds, tulip and 

Rivers and bodies of the earth, we see through window,

Falling of rain, daisies of life, that we soak in mind,

In dream of life, new life, dwell with founding terms,

Those we build in our source of diamond murmurs. 

LIVING BEYOND SHADOWS OF PROPAGANDA

O dear one, my strength is linking to dryness,

Only link, it is my mobile phone
That appears only to voice of a child,
And I feel comfort; as he is able to say, ‘Eei’
My walking with life is full of tufts
And shafts of yellow grass, higher
Above the height of nothingness, yet
I do live as if I am no one upon the land.

For the link, I have to turn hard,

No new garments I bought, wearing only old ones,
I am always pressing my mind for savings,
For paying cost for internet and mobile phone service,
Where I have to collect connections, and
Never varies my mind, even if silver dreams do come,
The only care I do intend for making me contacted
With the boy for hearing his voice on mobile phone,

and to see his pictures on internet social sites.  

As the child, beloved one,

Separated, by some persons of home and abroad,
Lives far away from me,

And as the child is yet to learn speaking to return from war zone,

My agony goes beyond submission and subjugation.
When I speak about need of a doctor for child's treatment,
They shout at me, young managers for the child,
As if I am trying to diverge thinking for well being
Of the child, as he appears to be well,
and he is fit to gain their confidence.

As an old man, my endeavor limited to seeing only window,

And I have to go hiding from their propaganda over shadow.

 

 

 

THE RISING SUN OVER WAVE OF ROOF-TOPS

The rising sun,

First light, cool and soft,

Comes over counting of roof-tops

Into first sight, serene,

Above town and over high-rise buildings,

Not surrounding with the scene,

Counting of sea waves,

Yet in the deep of heart of town,

Wave of roof-tops forms waves

Of astonishing scene of concrete work,

That will merge in our daily scene 

To see and to help interplay of

Counting our life-span,

Merging with stunning window and the sky,

In the context of housing boxes,

Alongside the nature’s gift to see the sun-rise,

Either from hill-tops or from sea-waves.