Pipal’s Tree

In the indian era of traditions,

Pipal’s tree has its own importance.

But I see it as Old Monk,

With vast experience and exposure.

A tower with proud, faced

Number of difficult exposure.

But remained stick to its roots,

To grow old and show it’s glory.

I accept it’s fellowship, to enlighten

My heart when stuck in past.

But I am a plant of future,

Born in chest of Pipal,

Grabbed tight it’s branches,

To experience it’s conquest. 

But in the end I grow flowers, 

Of my own type,

Of my own virtue,

Of my own ways of glory,

And Pipal has to be quiet,

Because I lead the way to future,

And I carry it’s recognition,

To next generation.

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One Step

One step away,

They supported.

Further one step,

they avoided.

I wanna then,

Fly.

Heading to modern sculpture,

Of high thoughts, and open mind.

They thought earning,

Enough!

Go get back to the same,

Lake.

Where traditions keeps us,

Alive.

With feeding, some ego

performing as genuine.

But I flew some beyond,

Where I judge, everything

My own.

The tease of that society,

Picks me back in that city,

But…

It’s a fight, and will fought,

Among the Egos,

With blind thoughts,

To be lightened,

And flourish,

As flower of rose,

To make them feel,

Letting behind is the way,

To a new day….

Got publish in International Journal of research for studies in English Language and Literature (Link- One Step)