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Inertia


Pitter-patter in the ears..
Nose to the wind….
Settled in a yawning void.
Languidity sneers
At the bustling mind
As it diligently toyed
With holding on firmly
Or letting go for once
To live in the moment
It isn’t easy , clearly
Dead habit shuns
Any new intent.

P.S : The first three lines have been borrowed from the status update of a Facebook friend , Jaya Nair Palikkat

 
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Posted by on June 22, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Namaz


roads in the rain

Roads washed by the rain
Trees bathed and cleansed
Moisture seeping through the pores
Of the wet Earth’s skin.

Mother Nature’s ablutions
Before it kneels down on the mat
To seek forgiveness
For her childrens’ sins

 
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Posted by on April 26, 2013 in Poetry, Reflections

 

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Hush!


In absolute silence,

The wind recites poetry

In hushed whispers

The leaves applaud

In a slow gait

The branches sway

Composing music

On their own accord.

In demure grace

The grasses bend

To sing to the earth

It’s favourite song

The frilly lace

Of the river lends

A  spriteliness

As it flows along

In wild abandon

The setting sun

Fills the skies

With crimson paint

Across the fields

The homing birds

Become specks

Far and faint.

Hush,listen to

The nightingale

Forlorn , it sings

Of parting and pain

Feathers crumpled

And its head bent

It‘s teardrops mingle

With the rain

 

P.S: The first two lines of this poem was “lifted” from the Facebook status update of a friend:-)

 
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Posted by on September 1, 2012 in Poetry

 

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When the mountains meditate


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Mountains, meditating monks on grassy meadows


The clouds rumbling mantras, in the dark shadows.


The earth watches its breath as it wafts by on the slopes

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And the rain beats a rhythm, cadences of harmony and hope.


Little streams find their way
Amongst the shrubs and the stones
To the Earth’s gaping lips
Its thirst to atone.

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Carpets of green, laid out in style
All washed and clean, across unending miles.


The trees find mirrors, to look at themselves
They smile at the fishes as they dive and they delve.


And there in the fields, that revel in the rain
Happy hands work together ,their hearts singing again.


The waters that gather, begin their slow journey
Excited they are, thinking of the blue sea.


And in the calm that descends after the downpour
There’s a quiet joy that mends the unravelled core.

This is in response to the prompts on the following link:
http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/2011/06/poetry-potluck-week-41-saints-monks-and.html

 

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