Transient but Excellent

Excellent is the transient stage

A thousand cuckoos sing in bliss

A hundred peacocks dance in joy

It is spring for all not to miss.

Glow in the beauty of flowers

Honey is in store in their hearts

Love to the core of all treasures

Bliss is full on the lovers' parts.

It is the flower to spread grace

It is the fruit for palatal delight

It is the seed to perpetuate race

It is the stage to excel by light.

The book of life, the best page

For a reader to read in interest

The album to arrest all the age

Memoirs to recall at the behest.

It is the welcome stage majestic

With robust strength in affluence

Feelings in the age are romantic

The cud to recall its experience.

In Time's flow, it turns transient

From stage to stage to this stage

The choicest to rejoice excellent

It is youth, life's loveliest image.

Published

Creation and Criticism 

Joint Issue 20 & 21 Jan-Apr 2021 Vol. 6 

Gandhiji's Message

As a surprise to our surmise

We happen to see the idols of monkeys

With three different postures

For they wish to put the full-stop to the evils

Not to tell the evil, the first shuts the mouth

Not to see the evil, the second hides the eyes

Not to hear the evil, the third closes the ears

The people appear the true followers

Of Gandhiji's message

They never talk of the evil.

As their near and dear are evil doers

They never see the evil.

As their close associates are criminals

They never listen to the evil.

As their close friends are lawbreakers

We are silent to their acts.

It means we are indirectly their supporters

Evildoers are on the rise like the weeds

To outgrow the plants to grow for lives

To find the gardener indifferent

We are silent to the violent,

Closing our mouths, eyes, and ears

As we are the true followers

Of Gandhiji, the Father of the Nation

The leaders also know the fact

They are also like us

Of course, they make mere speeches

In support of Gandhiji for sheer eyewash

We too keep quiet, as we are the poor

Our anger hurts our own lips.

Published

Creation and Criticism 

Joint Issue 20 & 21 Jan-Apr 2021 Vol. 6 

Strides of Tides

                                                    The earth is the proper place,

                                                     The venue abounds in mirth,

                                                  For everyone it is the sole base,

                                                      The sacred soil of my birth.

                                                I can take a plunge -- big or small

                                                   I can have a flight-- high or low

                                                I bounce back to the earth after all

                                                   Knowing my pace-- fast or slow.

 

                                                 The apple that falls to the ground

                                                    Reflects the gravitational force

                                                  Birds after their flight of a round

                                                   Come back to the living source.

                           

                                               The earth is for the wonder-display

                                                     For the mystery-unraveling 

                                                    For the most spectacular play

                                                 Of my innate talents long lasting.

                                                  Amid a song to go on the stage

                                                 I can dance in rhythmic postures

                                                 In full reflection on my eye-page 

                                                   I can express myriad gestures.

                                                    

                                                      I can build up my stature

                                                 Breaking shackles and manacles

                                                      Overcoming every barrier         

                                                   In my path, crossing obstacles.

                

                                                    I am the perfume of a flower 

                                                 Short but its service is admirable

                                                  I am the tree with its cool bower

                                                     Motherly love unchangeable.

                                                    I ride on the strides of tides

                                              In the life-ocean for the aimed shore

                                              By means of my relentless life-rides,  

                                                 For tidings of victory at my door.       

Published

Creation and Criticism 

Joint Issue 20 & 21 Jan-Apr 2021 Vol. 6