Rain Drops

Undulating river with-  

The surges of silvery water embracing the gusts of wild wind,

And falling crystalline drops of rain scattering as pearls on it.

Strewn stones around water producing soothing rhythm.

All this looking as beautiful as the 'beatious forms' of Wordsworth. 

With my imagining eyes,

I find you playing 

with falling crystalline drops of rain,

with the gusts of wild wind

with strewn stones. 

I long to become the rain drop

Which wistfully bequeaths its existence to river

And becomes its inseparable part. Like rain drop,

I too wish to bequeath my existence to YOU,

And become your ‘inseparable part’.

Brightening Cumulus

cumulus dancing 

and moving to the west

where she lives.

I begrudge them-

Because they will rain at her

And they will kiss her.

She will walk up the less traveled way of her city, 

and will frolic around with the shower of rain. 

She will whisper the her loving verses,

"For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,         

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;" 1

Then she will slip into 

the myriad of deep thoughts.

She will engrave her own poem

on the plank of her heart. 

Bidding adieu,

the cumulus have departed from me,

but left me soaking with her recollections.

Note: 1- Eliot's Love Song of J.Alfred Profrock 

Rains...

On tin shade,
Rains play the frenzied drum,
And forking lights dance in the darkening sky.

A Gypsy Girl

An adolescent gypsy girl,
Tanned of skin,
Sitting across the lake,
contemplates the stagnant water.
She meets herself in the mirror of water,
 And finds herself as the water is.
 Air smears the water;
Water blots her smiling face.
She seeks herself again,
But finds only unruly waves.
She murmurs,
 “ You waves do not shelter me
  As mankind has done”

Morn

Invigorating morning,
Colorless drops dance-
with sultry blows of wind
Musical sip at tea hotel,
And the day begins.

Nothing

A small, murky room,
 Where an old man lives with Nothingness;
 He reads books,
 But Nothingness besieges him in pages.
 While lying on cot as old as he,
 He sets his gaze at an old-fashioned spherical watch
 And childishly counts the tic-tic of it;
 But nothingness does bump into there.
 Going to the attic,
he opens window panes, gazes at shimmering stars, crescent moon and floating clouds,
 Nothingness follows him there too.
 He finds but nothingness.
 He utters the words,
“everything is Nothingness with whom I live”
 And sleeps with it on creaking cot,
 Sleeps…

you

Yes, you do perch on my heart
But a fear-you will fly away soon
penetrates the heart,