Widow Feelings

Widow feelings,

black and white,

Both nature and day,

Goes to temple,

Prays whole day,

To pass…

Start with ‘Tulsi‘,

Jailed in home,

Paper and ink

Sketched a blank…

Vibrated soul,

Sleepless eyes,

Moist round chicks,

Imagined that myth…

Extreme sorrows,

Works left not borrowed

Doing the same

Welling the empty well…

Happens in grounds,

Unfertilized with emotions,

Neutralized by demonstrations,

Of their wills, and powers to heal..

Does it matters,

Life being scattered?

Emotionless and dampness without hands of hope,

And willing ever loss…

The storm of Sorrow,

Could bring all this horror, but

Is it that end??

You wished, when eight.

where that aspiration,

And optimization??

You planned for something.

This is the Right phase,

To round the circle, if wish

Against the avoidance by you,

And Tear this myth, that

you can’t or you wouldn’t…

If agree to stand,

Against that you,

Gear the heart,

to pump very fast.

Because the chain or oath,

Needs effort a lot,

to Break, to Change….

Now load the sound, that

 You could, you can, and you will.

Yes!

That is the spirit,

To coupled the charm,

With care and with ‘Jaam‘.

 

 

Tulsi: A small plant, worshiped by Hindus

Jaam: pack of wine

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Magic Bean: “What?”

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One early morning, a bird

with shining wings,

Fell on my roof top,

Bleeding heavy,

Hiding a ‘Bean’

I carried inside,

Treated with wise.

Gave it approperiate treat,

With conceous it talking keen,

It’s not ordinary Bean,

Keep it care, will guide you

When everthing being dark,

And you look for What?

Dying bird’s voice,

Bounded me of that doing,

Today, sun is too high,

And my body, has tired

What can a old body can now do?

Resting on rest-chair,

Suddenly, I rember the same prayer,

“When everthing being dark,

And you look for What?” voice of bird.

I took a step inside,

and searched that cordiyard,

where that bean must hide.

With a little effort, got

That sining bean,

Withought any termite.

I buried it deep in ground,

And poured some water,

And Waited!

Waited!

Evening waited!

Morning waited!

Next day waited!

Day after day waited!

For magic, what bird siad for?

One day my family left me,

for their own life, my son and his wife.

I begged for death, that night,

Waking next morning,

I realized there is work,

To pour some water, at

Bean’s grow high,

Some weeks later, a leaf

Flourished, digging the way

Outside,

I continue to water,

Days after days,

some years passed,

It now grew strong,

And a fruit grew at branch,

Hurrly I un-branched it,

Watched dying that green fellow,

My heart filled with grief,

But suddently I realized,

I have more bean,

I grew them all, 

And again waited for anoter fruits…

Days passed I never let 

the hope go,

No matter I crossed 100 of years,

Without being tired, withought

Feeling restricted by age….

I grew that plant of hope,

Again and again, 

Through the dark,

To see the “What?”