In chasm of time

 

In  chasms of time shall the world

try to find

searching in remaining ashes

in the burnt petals

Fragrance! that would pervade

beneath the buried treasures

those alphabets of emotion

gazes of selflessness

while sprinkling dust

on  death of  time…

 

©Soumya

 

MANSION

built on the stacks of love

rendering moments with finesse and compassion

oh! so is the mansion of life

fitted with murals and sculptures of moments miniscule

…

would anyone bother to have a look

on the intricate work of bonds in details

will any glance ever realize

the pain of gathering the same

…

Often, everything gets lost in the long way

except the structure that

stands and the hands

which stacked the bricks…

 

©Soumya

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SCARLET

And  numb …under the orchid

I had awaited your steps since dawn

here you return …when the sun is about to set

When forgotten are promises

Lost are desires ,buried under the soil

The urge has vanished

and I motionless & still

stare at you…

The sun sets with a dab of crimson. It was all scarlet like my blood.

 

©Soumya

Rhetoric

Ah! Exclaimed the unknown poet

Bidding adieu to the world of sleeping souls

“Will thou never wake up

anyday before the

temple bells  or will the sound of

 a blowing conch stir thy senses

Then thou would get up from the slumber”

In dark , have thou lived

Forgetting the golden hours

When the prismatic rays kissed

Thy temple’s horizon

…long before the birds sang thine praises

And perched beside the mangoflowers…

Now sleeps the land

and thou folks in inebriation of materialistic ,egoistic treasures

Leaving aside the golden strokes

of humanism….

Shattering idols of faith…creating statues of stone and places of fearful altar

Mingle thou in dust while thy soul shrieks to remind

illumine the cavern

Then would be the advent of

An age utopian…

@Soumya

The walk

The hanging branches of orchids which yearn to droop

And reach me

How enchanting they appear and soothing while their petals brush against my cheek

Isn’t the path where I step barefooted embrace my feet into its heart deep

While the nostalgic air brings sense of belonging to my traveling soul

Which remains awake for nights before it finally rests to sleep

Doesn’t the echoing bells of a temple nearby thud my core ,whence I vibrate with

my pulse dancing to the cosmic lore

will n’t I be teary eyed when overflows my core with emotions inexplicable and words get lost

in the forest where I travel

they like the new born leaves shy ,sometimes shiver as the dried aged ones do before they die

 

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I know not the change
 nights long or the sweating day's pain
Is it the moon’s peeping game
or the wildflower’s fragrance putting
Samsara to shame?
the flow of time and course
alters abruptly and ceaselessly moves
sometime letting the scarlet dusk
embrace me or often
 leaving the stars in jealousy
while the dewy drops sparkle
I await
momentous fancies dreaming of being real
on the sandy shores 
when our intertwining fingers and seashells will play.

©Soumya

While the seasons played

While the swindler burnt my cheeks with

its sumptuous golden glow

I changed sides back and forth

for a while I was in shade

hugging memories  sheltered the autumn skin

while the seasons played

…

The silken locks refused to listen

falling like cascade disturbed the rhythm

the song of past struck

few strings in galore

the beats struck the chord

and music echoed.

©Soumya

An excerpt

She cleared the mist with her fingers etching the outline on the glass. The wintry night had left an envelope of thin layered fog on the window pane. She stood there every night after her dinner watching the lone moon hung in the sky. The moon wasn’t visible today and she was wiping the glass to have a glimpse .

The breeze knew the heartbeats of her soul and carried the message of her silent yearnings to faraway land of dreams,where dwelt the twin part of her soul.

Wasn’t it so unworldly, pocketing treasures in the casket of nature and reliving the moments at peace? Nothing mattered as long as the moon was visible to both ends of the world,they lived, breathed and felt the urge to communicate through the dancing waves of morning and night breeze.

How often the nightingales sang and the butterflies danced? Her eyes sparkled and knew the message was through.

Beyond several seas , the orchid had bloomed .

 

Blog’s Fifth Anniversary !

Dear friends,

It has really been a long time since I interacted with all of you due to my busy schedule of  parallel assignments and work. Yet the quill never stopped and the ink flows incessantly churning out the deep thoughts, embracing with love and weaving them in form of new verses everytime.

WordPress announced today that the’ Blog turns 5′.  So its my blog’s anniversary ! This journey has been possible due to all the lovely blogger friends out here, who have stood with me since years.Each one of you have been equally important in my journey of blogging. This is my first blog and hence holds a special place in my heart.

Thanks to all of you – readers, bloggers and friends. Let me share a poem about birth on this occasion.

Who art thou?

The one who breathes in a cuddle of warm embrace
Tucking memories of every birth in tiny fingers
Whence thou arrive
from which land…?
From the soil of Beethoven or originated from the Rumi’s dervish dance
Had thou runneth beside the Ganga
or thou the leaf from the Bodhisatva
art thou the whiteness of Himalayas
or the pearl of a divine heart?
O! soul! Where art thou from?
While the soft lotus feet curl like petals
Will thou proclaim thy arrival?
O! Little one !
Welcome abode in the depths of our heart…

Thanks and best wishes

©Soumya V

“My colour”

 

Allow me to paint  thou

thus in my  colour

Every stroke a gentle one

With a dab of aureate emblazoned

Where then  left thee in the dusk of life

towards an unknown goal

Its endless,

the walk of this journey

retread and

embrace

We  flames of divine

born as two souls

burn together

though far

at distant miles

in the lone fire of love.

©Soumya