The minstrel weaveth the stoic fable !


Whence cometh the ballad of soulful lores
The minstrel weaveth the stoic fable
of life and death…
amidst the pandemonium…
echoes the stringed instrument
“In river of sorrowful tragedies,
floweth the waters of Ganges
rinsing sins of everyone
whilst absorbing the miseries…”
 
Through vast fields and meadows
wanders the troubadour
who sang the tune,
“melancholic strings of birth
tangle ,yet remain unattached
we as mere puppets
move forth, in
hands of destiny…”
 
humming wordsmith of the pasture
intertwines the lace of life with innateness
“In thy world
 I learn, live
love and die…
but in none ,
can I find thee …”
Where art thou!
he cries!
 
 photocredit:www.caravanmagazine.in
Nabini Das Baul-1
 
 
 

Timeless !


like the countless stars of a night sky
as the endless tides of the ocean nearby
like the fragrance of flower ,felt and unseen…
the river which endlessly flows …throughout
summer, winter or spring,
as the ceaseless pulsating beats of a heart
under the constant blueness of sky
on  greenery of the land
dwells the eternal , inimitable
treasured thought…
in depths of soul, immortal
lives the love timeless… like God!
photocredit:www.bandagedear.com
timeless-love-ii-by-jennifer-broussard-673389

On that perch!


O! The singing herald

chirp on that perch

which awaits the sunshine

and seeks hope…

on the branch emerged few new leaves

tender  and fluorescent green…

no, it still isn’t that strong enough

to hold the nest of life,

yet it remains unbent and straight

in days of storm and strife…

Withering season marked the place

the ground beneath showed the fall

songs of different hues

echoed

when the sky again turned blue…

Thou! singing herald

sprinkle thy blissful voice

on that perch

anticipates which with diligence and patience

fighting odds of tenacity

with dedication and devotion.

 

Photocredit:birdsofnewengland.com

images

 

O! Krishna!


The bejeweled trinket clinks,
tinkle ,few silver bangles,
she halts as the melody from  flute
mingles in the air…
in a soft tone she chants,
“O! Krishna,where did you vanish,
your flute troubles me
and plays pranks…
I search you
and find none…
where hath thou gone, O! Gracious one,
the sun sets in Brindavan…
awaits the doe eyed, ethereal maiden,
craves the soul ,in agony of despair and separation…
thy left the reed in pastures… of Gokul
thy mates miss thine play
with their companion…
the fresh froth of the churning cream
yearns for the immaculate touch of the tender fingers,
from the milk of the divine cows under azure
who pine for their shepherd …
O! pastoral of the beings
we seek your presence
come hither with the blowing breeze
beside the pond , I look for your being…
under the Kadamba tree, which showers the
blossoms of love
here, restless and impatient ,
sits the soulmate…
the Shakti of thou! Shiv…
 
 
 photocredit:tamilandvedas.com
beauiful-krishna-radha
 
 
 

Truth of Life


TRUTH OF LIFE
 

It’s the truth of life,what we crave for is lost ,
like the golden particles of sand,
that slide between the fingers,
even from a tight fist…
what we cannot hold ,
is the truth of time.

That which flows like a stream
open, unended, unclosed,
incessant,
like the love of a pure heart
unselfish, uncanny, selfless..

Beyond this altruistic reality
is nothing but a mirage,
world of images and fantasies
ready to get crushed by folds of time…
illusions many,
how much we wary
breaks the mirror of our whimsies
in broad daylight.

.

 Photocredit:www.terragalleria.com

grsm6838-bw

 

SILENCE


How will the silence articulate
while the vacuumed chamber
resonates
the ache of your memories…
how shall the heart live
while the deep abyss inside
pines for thee…
whence the smile reappear
while the soul is craving
for thee in the chasm.

photocredit:www.flickr.com
4538621248_a6520afb01_z

SONG OF CHIMERA


 

O! the figments of woven dreams,where is thy home,

who weaves the intricate motifs

of emotions and feelings,

O! fanciful dreams,where doth you take the mind,

that palace in the heaven above, it  isn’t  home of mine?

O! vagaries of thought, where rusheth you to the end,

the terrain is rough and steep is the bend…

O! illusive desires of the heart, which way you runneth

the  silvery cascade ahead , is the mirage of unreal claims…

O!soulful heart, sing thy  song of chimera

which unveils the whimsies of every confused human of this era!!!