Monday, 24 June 2013

Messengers of Night-Day

A single encounter leads to clarity…

The sights pinned onto vast horizons of the night’s skies,
Searching for dots of blinking light
Quivering in the distance.
Shimmers of metallic essences reflect off the endless seas.
Out there in the expanses of nowhere
Are messengers of the breeze and clouds and winds-
Ones who know how to fly or free fall,
Assured of rising an instant before the crash,
Ones who surrender will and soul and heart and mind to the winds,
Ones who are movement and speed and passion and amazement.
To those messengers of night-day

The lights speak poetry!


P.S.- I remember having read a little bit of Stephen Spender's "The Express" in school, wondering how people could find poetry in the monotony of the railway lines. Yet, here I am, thinking about the beauty of flight- even if it is a mechanical flight, and a controlled flight.

Friday, 14 June 2013

Rainsong

Summer is such an uninspirational, unpoetical month! Now that the rains are here, the feeling of music and the world of vivid beauty has settled upon us once again. So here, is another poem…

Steadily, droplet by droplet, the lakes quench their thirst.
The skies speak a rainstorm of joy and serenity.
In tandem to the sky’s symphony, a green carpet hums its tune,
And the smell of the damp earth encompasses their harmony.
The air sighs in relief as the straddling stillness of summer sorrows
Are washed away,
And the map of the land, all bleak and bland in the blistering heat,
Now paints itself in newer hues and more cheerful colours
Of deep grey and subtle blue
Over-clouding the harsh yellowness of the fiery sun.

The world bustles with a quiet activity-
The ants and worms are out being busy,
Stocking up to face the heat, just as we, too,
Embrace the grey-green- mellow blueness,
Forgetting, already, the sun and sweltering heat
Of just a few weeks ago,
Instead, basking in the freedom
Of raindrops singing their rain song.