This spring-turn is abrupt
More summer than spring
Considering...just the other day
Freshly washed woolens
Were reluctantly unfolded
As the last chill hit before departing
This season decided to summer-sault!
So here's New Year--all ruffled and warm
Slightly sweaty-- feverish--a little parched
Heralding perhaps an intense summer
My drooping balcony blossoms perk up
As water sprinkles douse the dusty blooms
Noises of merrymaking recede
I draw cool green shades
Over shut glass windows
After trapping morning fragrances
Blue breezy dawn...gone with noon blaze
I wait patiently for sunset colours
And shimmery twilight...darkening azure...balmy night
Idle bliss...yearned for
Before hectic task-turn...again!

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Some people have this great talent
Of reduction...they can dismantle
Piece by piece...and with equal panache
A pyramid or a polygon
Reducing to formula...a wish, a dream, a desire
A whimsical fancy...as elusive as the rainbow cloud
As fragile as butterfly wings
They would still insist that gossamer dew
Were really moisture drops...sky sweat!
So they would reduce trauma to trivia
And seek to name, define, order, control
Some people need to cling tenaciously
To the calculated four of two and two
Put together any which way
As long as they can deny...negative capability
And the mystic glitter of a magic seven
Because it isn't straight addition
Some people still call geniuses mad
Obsessed with material mania
Dazzled by the geometric traps
Of strait laced pragmatism
Fearful of disarray....petrified of dissent
And plurivocal cacophony
Oblivious of the primal wilderness within
That could erupt unbidden!

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Soul silence
Deep, dark, alluring
Absorbed, "self" ish
Solace... undisturbed
Peace... unconditional
Tranquil tome
Of crystal clarity and
Inscribed life truths
Sharply etched
Stark... bare... hurtful
Honest
Devoid of pretentious prattle
Still... ethereal
Profound...resonating
Soul silence

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Middlemarch...and it seems like
Half the year is gone
The heat hasn't settled yet
Though summer's in the offing
And the half- hearted cold
Raises goosebumps
Just the day you've decided
To throw caution to the winds
And shed the woolens
To show off the season's first summer dress!
As desultory as duty calls
Are those wistful afternoons
Longing for languid leisure
An overdue noon siesta
Cool zephyrs nudge awake
Heavy-eyed slumber
And sudden wind gusts
Spray refreshing shower sprinkles
Midmarch is yet too soon
To let go of mood "vacay"
A little too late to defer the business of life
Indecisive, liminal middlemarch!

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You…me
And smouldering June dusks…
Once…
You…me
And even equinoxes
Now…!
You…me
And vernal rain-song…
Verdant earth-musk
Once…
You…me
And sprawling snow scape
Silhouette branches, scratchy rustle
Of last leaves…
Strands of chimney smoke-curls
Russet wine, hearth fire…
Now…!
You…me
And flaming moon orbs…
Noontides and summer dawns
Once…
You…me
And still night skies…silver stream
Calm river moon and frosty stars
Now!
You…me
And breezy souffle sea-sands
Fireflies and evensongs
Once…
You…me
Heady pine scents and wisps of sweet autumn smoke
Fall woods amber gold…fire-core ashen embers
Now…!

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Just when...
A fine silver strand
Of elusive poetry
Is about to sparkle and shine
Just when...
Precious reverie promises
Sojourns into deep dark recesses
Beneath a routine material mind
Steeped in unperturbed silences
I unravel pearl yarns of the creative wheel
Just when... Xanadu beckons
With magic visions of never- never land
A rattle, a ring, a call or some such thing
Shatters the absorbed odd- hour dream!

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Take off time
The airplane ran on squeaky wheels
Giving the feel of a grumbling bus
It did spread metallic shiny wings however
And shot into the vacant blue
Gazing out of a tiny
Apology for a window
I saw a thin tremulous silhouette
Of a... little mosquito
Trapped between the double glass panes
It slowly moved up and down
In slow half circles...
Was it gasping for air I wonder
Or was it born in that supposed vacuum
Because there was a moisture leak
Some microscopic hole
Undetected by the technical team?
Was there a cluster of eggs that perished
And this the lone survivor
An impossible miracle of life
Miniscule and stubborn
In that monstrous flying machine
I imagined it's annoying hum
Were it to fly in the cabin
Gleefully defiant... taking a joy ride!
And yet I wished its life
For that sheer tenacity
Of survival instinct
A speck trapped in an artificial universe
Yet daring to rise...

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Sometimes even now
Post a lifetime of battles
Life throws an irresistible gauntlet
And... inadvertently
Or maybe because that imp of mischief
is still alive in you...
Or perhaps because that blood call
From your mother's womb
To test what salt you are worth ...
Pushes you to plunge into the ring of fire
And you shatter the impenetrable
Circle of animosity and resistance
Choosing to bring on the storm
Tempting destruction
Knowing well that exit routes are
Fraught with danger...you are trapped
And you may perish trying...
To bring about transformation
Sometimes...you throw caution to the winds
Treading fools' paths
To evoke dead angels!

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As the last hour of this year
This Sabbath night
Slips by quietly
(The commotion all outside)
Revelry, youth, mindless mike-blare
The endsong chimes of a passing year
Rolls out in a muted cadenza
An over-the- shoulder glance
A moment's pause to assess
Losses and gains
Of love, friendships, family, relations
What was gone, never to be regained?
At the turn of a new year
What new hope, if at all?
Yet, the stubborn never- give-up gall
Will rear it's head and Faith stands tall
"All will be well"... the quirky mantra
Of ridiculous optimism
Will push us through
I believe and hope and pray
For a fresh unsullied start
Asking for little... just some peace
Good tidings of dear ones
Happiness for those counted friends
And quiet blessed times
An uneventful, placid life
With my sole soulmate...

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It’s time to follow
Life’s lead—
To tread on— regardless
Of what’s ahead—
And what’s left behind
This phase— the last leg—
Of a race that has been
Waded through in—
blood and tears
Precious toil and battles—
Hard won
Footfalls imprinted in sole-blood
Soon lost upon—
Shifting sands of time —
Etched in invisible soul-blood
Awash in rippling—
Moon-tide swells—
Of turgid passions—
It’s time to let go—of enduring obsessions
Foolish dreams and—
Fond emotions
It’s time to accept failures—with grace—
And spunk to live with remnants
Of a flawed, broken self—
Learn to relinquish the me that is
feisty and fierce—
It’s time to flatten—
The pulsing irrepressible “I”- curve—
Into a stoic straight line—
Of submission

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