The humming river


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Let us flow like the perennial river

gushing past the rocks

through the valleys

and down the hills to

our heaven.

 

let us hear the song of chirping birds

play with butterflies

bloom with the orchids

and roll on meadows laughing

and cuddling over.

 

let us climb to the sky

catch the stars twinkling

and draw doodles

of love on heaven

 

will you come over

or beckon me there

to flow together

like the humming river?

 

The ink and the quill


While my heart throbs in the
Misty mornings of winter
Thy soul snuggles for some warmth in my words
I paint the sky saffron embracing thou
 presence

 
Years ago
beside you under the mulberry tree
you had asked
while scribbling
my name on  dust of a storm
will thy  be mine
I had nodded
carving thou  inside deep notches

 
Births later
We sit and dream
Away from one another by  seven  seas
will there be a common sky
a single roof where 
you would be the ink and  I, the quill .

©soumya vimg_20161028_182637

The Rainy Season


 

The Rainy season- A random musing

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Like the beautiful  flowers of palash, popularly known as fire of the forest, I was burning . The inner turbulence  like the  upheaval of tides made me rise and fall against the heavy rocks of life.

Had the shore been sandy ,I wished to have laid myself on the shore surrendering to  the splashing waves of a sea,but nonetheless,it was n’t such.It was rocky.

Life isn’t what we dream and wish for! We have to create a path to realize this dream  and then walk on it ,many a times getting pierced by innumberable thorns .

The fragrance which disseminates in the atmosphere is usually of the wild flowers growing on open meadows and hillsides, those which bring freshness in life and also in the monotonous mundaneness. Pruned, I loved watching birds flying in the sky, they seemed to be so happy, free and delighted ,marching towards their goal . Their wings unfettered and whistling to their favourite tunes they sang whenever they wished .

A sense of freedom filled the heart and I wished I could fly thus like the wading birds.

The riot of colours in the evening sky brought more nostalgia  as I walked towards the mound on the top of the mountain. This rainy season, nothing had changed.

We


IMG_20151211_110914your words pierced every vein

leaving goosebumps

and I saw the lost moment again

In dust I vanished

you in the dew of time

both in opposite directions

but hearts connected for lifetime

with a sigh,

the hope dawns with every morn,and sets

in the night dark

a moment to be together

leaving the world aside.

.

©SoumyaV

She lives nowhere


She lives nowhere
 neither in her own cage
 nor in open air
 homeless, shelterless she moves…
 seeking solace
 would the tranquil blue provide
 her some rest
 will the traveling clouds quench her thirst ageless,
 in the crowd, she gets lost
 her voice diminishing to nothingness
 where ‘s she now
 where is her abode 
 in the limitless sky
 she searches for her unique dwell.
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The pragmatic spirit


the pragmatic spirit
which failed to live as a free bird
pinioned to the ancillary pedestal with bondage,
a pit of darkened sphere
where like a dragon is a holocaust

in the feeble body,
a sunken heart,
fears swing of life
forgoing and abstract
stares at the time pendulum

under the lampshade orange ,
dawned a ray of wisdom
a veneration;
an assimilation of glitches
burns the scared pyre
illuminating the inner luminescence