Song of the tree

And thus the seedling awakened green

Listening to the melody of a stream

Its tender shoots tasted a cloud

As the swollen stream sang aloud

The little one grew tall and strong

Listening to the stream’s gurgle song

Then a proud tree rose to the sky

And waved to the clouds passing by

Buds forgot but the roots remembered

The happy gurgle they had heard

The song that nurtured the seedling’s soul

Tugged its heart in knots and whorl

As green shoots dared to touch the sky

Roots went longing for the lost lullaby

The Discovery

I am the love at sixteen

And the wisdom of a broken heart

The poison patience of Shiva

And the dance of enraged Nataraj

I am the coal turned diamond

And a dew drop in the sun

The indifference of a seasoned whore

And the serinity of a nun

I am the desert flower

And a champion of the pains

The melody of a lullaby

And the shelter in the rains

I dreamt of a fern, craving clouds

And met a thron half past dead

I spent so long seeking you

That I found myself instead

Lost Sparrows

Now we call our Sparrows back

When last of them have gone away

Callous, not cruel and indifferent

That’s what we were, till yesterday

Looking out of that empty window

Now we close our eyes, to see

Sparrows hopping and chirping about

After they have flown to eternity

What will we do when all are gone

Our Myhnas, Bees and Butterflies?

How would we lament and blame whom 

When the last little flower dies?