Nature is a poem minus words,
a thousand chosen couplets,
from the dreams of the Gods.
Diamond dew, on flowers frail,
silver storms at the ocean’s tail.
Butterflies in flight,
and their shadows on the soil.
after a days toil.
A leaf dancing solo
through the summer air,
from the eerie eucalyptus
on the laterite chair.
Waters, seemingly flowing
aimlessly to the world’s eyes.
Yet reaching their own predetermined goal,
breaking away from their Earthly ties.
beetles and bees busy preparing,
for the blank white winter’s cold.
Grasses growing little twigs above,
but strong roots beneath, deepening their hold.
saplings tender, so full of life,
peeping from nowhere,
from lifeless lands, barren, bare!
Clouds or cotton balls?
In skies jungle,
the foxes fumble
and the Lion mauls…
The Touch me not, shying away..
like from a lover’s touch
on an unexpected day.
Gulmohur red and gold as a bride,
Silver firs talking to the clouds with pride.
“You may shine silver.
But more Silver I do hide”
All comes and all but goes,
where each being with harmony grows.
lives and believes and departs one day,
leaving behind withered and gray.
to rot beneath this earthen pot.
in a form that it was not.
Majestic mountains might seem mini.
Even tiny Ants have duties many.
Big and small.
Nature has them all.
Each to teach a lessons few,
to rediscover life,
one thought one knew!
No poet’s pen can pen down your beauty,
No painter’s brush paint your bounty,
No photographers’ frame can capture your colour.
No philosopher’s thoughts testify your valour.
No princes’ treasure can buy your riches ,
No prophet’s wisdom preach what Nature teaches.
Invisible you are in a drop,
and anonymous the drop in the sea.
Your Majesty! I could never comprehend thee!
No Hymns hummed for this hero.
No Songs sung for this soul,
You cannot relish it in plucked fragments,
you ought to rejoice it in whole.
The mysterious teacher!!
I am in love with my hometown’s serenity, its solitude. Sunabeda is the Mountain’s daughter, brought up by soothing sunshine, reprimanded by torrential rains, pacified by winter fogs, … It has a poem scripted on each leaf, flower and cloud. It has magic in its breath that makes each one a poet. And I am no exception!