touch upon a word

let me reach out
and touch upon a word…

a word that lets you share
that which i feel

But fails to tell

how it scars the soul

why should you not know how it feels?

bitter tears shared have a sweetness all of their own…

and however Love may be praised

it too grows jealous
of not being felt the same by all.

A Selection of the background score to the movie “Azaghi” by Ilayaraja

2012

Silence spoke for me

even as you say the truth
each word gentled,
so as not to hurt what already is tender…
each statement wreathed with “That’s the way it is”
each phrase piqued in soft question
“Of do you understand? This is how it must be…”
each emotion huskily swallowed
and gently urging assent…

I let Silence do my talking.

2012

 

Morning

Morning rises

to meet its Creator

shining forth

with all its radiant beauty

it ascends to the skies

a dazzling angel

haloed in heavenly light

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Nothing But Wind – Singing Self – Composed by Maestro Ilayaraja

2012

let me live my life as a leaf

let me live my life as a leaf.
let me lift and leave as they do.
they beg not to let go of limb…
but they go nevertheless, their greeness outgrown.
their brightness only crumbling to rustling brown bits
as i watch whether trampler will rake them back to me…
they do not stay as i do.
i alone cannot bear for each of them to go.
leaving me so bare and barren once more.
let eternal winter slay me through once.
lashes no more, no one hears my white muffled cries.
crack me in two and be done with your icy touch.
let not Spring come again with her adornments,
they mean nothing to me no more.
Sultry Summer with her,
blush of petit sweet offerings.
my bitterness ever taints them…
carressing eyes yet shriveling tongues.
etch not your beloveds upon me…
i promise your parting,
under my very boughs.

spring’s herald

Spring’s feathered herald

pecks furtively at the frozen’d ground

urging worms far nestled below

who refuse to venture out

and greet the bitter rain.

His red-dulled breast

heavy-drenched

with water disguised as ice.

II

She found last night

among the howling winds

that her chickling

had become an egg once more

curled into a downy, frail ball

yet no more warm

now more silent than ever.

III

Two quivering robins

huddle over their branch-bare nest

their warbles lost in the pelting hail

not a peep escapes from their hatchlings.

2012

Dawning

keep your fingers crossed
your heart open
your vision willing
your dreams real

@@@

keep your smile secret
your heart willing
your vision sure
your dreams strong

@@@

keep your eyes dry
your heart strong
your vision unblurred
your dreams from fleeting

@@@

keep your head up
your heart patched up
your vision realistic
your dreams as dreams

 

two little saplings

two little saplings

their limbs cannot hear
each others’ leaves rustling
shushes of sweet nothings
they only feel the soft caress of whispered wants

their leaves cannot see
how with each season
the branches reach, yearning towards them
they only feel a newborn tendril’s touch

their hearts enclosed in trunk
spread out their rooted love
and rejoice
when they taste
the same rain
and bask in the same warmth

two old gnarled trees
know of a love
they feel it within
beyond what they know

but they know.