Sunday, July 10, 2016

The solitary reaper

I am a solitary reaper, singing in the fields,
I keep pace with the sun from dawn till dusk;
I sing and speak to the hills and the dales,
And I hum all day to the beat of my sickle.


The valleys echo my solemn voice to me,
I forget the long hours as I keep humming;
My song changes its hue from hour to hour
And I love to sing of loves, lost or gained.

Sometimes, I sing of epic battles of yore
Bending over my sickle in the green fields;
Sometimes, a passing stranger stops to listen,
Lingering over the soft music that he hears.

I see him smiling at my lonely song and me,
As he moves away, I get back to work again.

Saturday, July 09, 2016

Anam Cara


Sometimes, the answer comes late for some seekers. The lonely roads may wear you out; the skies might turn bleak and hostile; the days might spent without ever having a soul to breathe your worries to. 
There is always this desire, the need for warmth, for compassion, for meaningless chatter and meaningful silences yet the road is quite lonely. 
Much later at a turnstile, you might meet a traveller in whose eyes you might see eternity, in whose warmth all your wanderlust might be kindled again, in whose extended hand you might see a soul connection. 
There might be others who have gone ahead and reached their destinations long ago but your blessing is that you value the wisdom taught by the lonely roads, the weary feet and the warmth of your long-desired for companion. 
Photo Courtesy: flickr.com


Sunday, July 03, 2016

Spring


Somewhere after the terrible times, after the turmoil is over, there has to be a spring,

When your footsteps will be like before, sprightly and fast not like the drag of feet across these interminable winter,

May be only you will be left behind to tell the tale, how this went from joy to misery in a single day.

Sense of loss


In a throw of a dice,
In a move of hand,
You threw away all
Went into sanctuary.

The songs of loss,
That spoke of you,
The tiny wings left
To learn to fly itself.

The seething pain
The story of losses
Come back again
In its full sense.

You choke your tears
Without a goodbye.