Saturday, November 30, 2013

the core of permanence


how long can
a butterfly rest
how long can it
flutter by - finding
the core of permanence

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Mahmoud Darwish - I come from there


I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.
I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland..... 

Monday, November 25, 2013

winter solitude


winter solitude
all day
her blue dreamy eyes
follow the birds
winging the sky




* a verse from a story in process ~

Monday, November 18, 2013

dry leaves


my heart bids me
to be quiet, but,  the mind
says I am required to speak~     
dry leaves clatter
in the wind




Well, the thought....the short verse came to me on seeing that tree..It seems the bark of the tree too changes colour and sheds along with the leaves....Green in summer, turns red through autumn/before winter...sheds the red bark and turns white in winter months and then again fresh green bark and foliage in spring...into summer and so on. It is the story of the tree, but definitely carries the human story as much...


Sunday, November 17, 2013

Winter Air



"It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake,
the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. 
This crisp winter air is full of it. ~
John Burroughs" - "Winter Sunshine"



Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Thoreau -I


Finding yourself yoked to Matter and to Time. Not a mosquito left. Not an insect to hum. Crickets gone into winter quarters. Friends long since gone there, and you left to walk on frozen ground, with your hands in your pockets. Ah, but is not this a time for deep inward fires? - Henry David Thoreau




Monday, November 11, 2013

end of a long day

end of a long day 
far afield 
a burst of sparkling firecrackers!


a week past Diwali celebrations still on. 

Sunday, November 10, 2013

predawn quiet


the quiet of predawn 

craving for a day 
with nothing in it


first line could be "predawn quiet" as well...but guess i prefer the way it naturally flowed, than to "work" for cohesion and tightness - well, sometimes.

pallid winter sky


pallid the winter sky~ 
contemplating a splash, 
tomato red

high tide

"Haiku is not a shriek, a howl, a sigh, or a yawn; rather, it is the deep breath of life." ~ Taneda Santōka


high tide 
the thought
of a thought