Silent sky


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Silent sky

Impregnated clouds

Rains awaited and

So thoughts bursting aloud…

 

Empty courtyard beckons

Tis monsoon

Showers   can’t rinse

dried lines  of old tears

 

cluster  of flowers bathe in

upheaval   tides of ocean

the sail will have its own course

changes when the season.

©Soumya

 

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Stitched


Screams my heart loudly

while lips sealed with

threads of  promise

You sewed my heart and knotted it

Leaving the knot entangled forever

neither the pin realized nor the seamster

pined the veins

struggling for air…

stitched by destiny

in tangles of time

walk I towards destination

with a numb smile.

 

 

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Whence thus…


Treading through rough terrains when in the invisible threads of world entangle lost is the soul in the tandem of livelihood and survival.

Whence thus, whence would

breathe I the fragrance of jasmine

play through forests of green firs

watch the golden over peaks Himalayan

tread along sands of flowing rivers

count the stars lying in a desert

dance with waves of an endless ocean

vibrate in tranquilness

under the sapphire

O! mighty one

paths many I traveled

found umpteen chronicles

thousand relics

but thou reside in me

I knew…

whence would then

thou reveal?

 

©Soumya

 

 

 

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LIFELESS


Lifeless appears life
Whilst thou sleep through golden light
Having lost the moment and time
What remains is
mirage of life

Mere existence,
Forgetting to breathe
Unheard heartbeats
Criss cross shades umpteen

Lifeless life of monochrome
Tis monotonous if we forget to dream and wish
Colours deluged many a times
 frame remains colourless 

©SoumyaIMG_20170419_105658

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
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Isn’t that the world we dreamt?


Isn’t that the world we dreamt

loving daisies and tulips smiling

few stars to count in the bare open sky of a sleepless night

while the moon peeped and stared at our clumsiness and laughter

and the waves of Adriatic would caress the symphony of our souls in pleasure

Won’t that be the astral world of ecstasy

blissful and non pragmatic

divine and perpetual in nature?

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Transition


Magical are those moments when we get overwhelmed by certain emotions, ones which are inexplicable. Certainly the ones which render  our innermost thoughts on canvas of life in varied colours and forms.

Impermanence is the law of life and change is inevitable.

Sometimes this transition is just  another change  else it brings lot of mixed emotions stocked inside a jar which get released together. Like a burning incense where the fragrance gets diffused along with delicate  fumes in all directions ,so are invisible emotions randomly scattering, within the atoms of the zephyr trying to find out their destination.

They travel collide, run, hide and seek the nucleus of this anxiety,or ecstatic movement. There is no kind of attachment or detachment defined  while in this condition. One feels free ,like a free bird flying above the seven seas and the next minute one tends to feel like chained by societal norms and relations.The strings of duties entangle the perching feathers of  the bird,pinion it to one pole ,while its claw tries to disentangle the sordid caged condition.It gazes at the vast expanse ,yearns to be embraced by the blueness and drops a tear often to be wiped by its own feathers. During the night , the vanishing stars carry its silent soul to another abode which seems real ,yet far from  the reach of its own flight.

 

When bloomed the palash flowers

Brightening the blue skies of my world

They set the emotions on fire letting those  buds

nipped off the branch and smearing the nostalgic ethereal dust

in plentiful measures

Scarlet or saffron ,the deep tinge evoked endless sensations

Which reverberate with the atoms of universe

in a seeking of finding its own abode

Whether at feet of the creator

Or lying unnoticed on ground till shrivels the petal with arrival of different season.

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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
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