O golden Sun!
Why do you blush
as you say goodbye
in the evening skies?
Are you in love?
O silver satellite!
Why do you smile
as you shine bright
in the nighttime?
Are you in love?
O blue ocean!
Why do your waves
rush to embrace
the shores of sand?
Are you in love?
O crimson rose!
Why do you bloom
unabashedly bold
in the winter’s cold?
Are you in love?
As I wonder
about the answers,
one thing becomes crystal clear –
Myriad are the colors of love.
You only need the eyes of a lover.
Love is in the air.
It makes me see you everywhere.
And even though you’re far away,
This is what you will hear me say –
My darling, I love you.
Love is in the air.
With you, this love I want to share.
Let not this moment go to waste.
Feel my heart beating as you say –
My darling, I love you.
Love is in the air.
A love that’s timeless and so rare,
that even diamonds and roses pale
when we kiss slowly and we say –
My darling, I love you.
Love is in the air.
We are the ones who put it there.
And we won’t ever let it fade away.
With every breath we take, we’ll say –
My darling, I love you.
It was a very simple question,
“Who ate the cookies from the jar?”
that Mother asked her children.
Three pairs of eyes looked at her
thinking about the repercussions –
the rebuke, the beating with the ruler.
The possibilities scared all of them.
Silence and fear filled the atmosphere
broken by Mother’s question again.
Till the little culprit stepped forward
and with a tremble, said, “I ate them,”
while the others thought, “He’s dead!”
Then, Mother did the most unexpected.
She smiled and hugged him, and said,
“As you spoke the truth, you are forgiven.”
What the children learned that day was –
The path of truth may be frightening,
but it is the right one to be on…always.
You can tie stones to my feet
and push me in an ocean deep,
but swim to the surface, I will,
and glow like a precious pearl.
You can dig a bottomless pit
and bury me deep inside it,
but grow like a seed, I will,
and bloom like a golden orchid.
You can scale the highest peak
and throw me in the deep valley,
but fly in the blue skies, I will,
and soar like the mighty eagle.
You can light the biggest pyre
and burn me to ashes in that fire,
but rise like the Phoenix, I will,
and live on like the legend lives.
No matter how difficult it gets,
I will overcome all challenges.
I am the superhero of my life.
I will always rise and shine.
Let me gift you today
my love in a bouquet.
No flowers do I bring.
They wither in a blink.
No soft satin ribbons.
As they end up fraying.
For you, I have moments
etched in togetherness.
Kisses, hugs, and smiles
for your entire lifetime.
I will listen to you speak
about all of your dreams.
I bring to you my heart.
I accept all that you are.
And I know you feel, too,
this love I have for you.
For you only, is my bouquet,
and it will never fade away.
The last flower of spring
had a sweet song to sing.
Swaying in the cool wind,
to the past, it didn’t cling.
It sang of snows melting
and the chill relenting,
of buds awakening –
a new spring approaching.
It sang with tones lilting
of the sunrays kissing,
the fragrant air drifting,
of butterflies flitting.
Of hope, its words did ring,
spreading the good tidings.
Even the summer growing
in silence was tiptoeing.
The last flower of spring
sang of hard times ending
and the best times coming –
A song everlasting.
If I ever met an old-lamp genie
who could grant me wishes three,
well, what would those wishes be?
And should I really stop at three?
I’d wish the aurochs would return
and also, the pink-headed ducks.
I’d wish the tourtes could fly again,
and cheetahs roam the Asian plains.
I’d wish there was a magical cure
for every sickness in this world.
I’d wish we had the supreme power
to realize that we are the cause.
I’d wish we did not need sadness
to know the value of happiness.
I’d wish the desire to oppress ends
and we could walk hand in hand.
The wishes I have are more than three,
so the third and last wish would be –
to make a wish for three more wishes
till there were no wishes left unfulfilled.
Dewdrops
like pearls fallen from a string.
Dewdrops
like diamonds in a wedding ring.
Dewdrops
shine bright in the sunlight.
Dewdrops
twinkle like bits of starlight.
Dewdrops –
children of the morning mist.
Dewdrops –
they are happy just to exist.
Dewdrops of every shape and size –
each one dazzles with its own light.
Dewdrops delight with their smiles.
May these dewdrops be our guides.
Fill your hearts to the brim with cheer.
The gift of a brand New Year is here.
It’s the time to make resolutions anew.
Each one as bright as the sun at noon.
Let’s wave goodbye to the year that’s gone.
We learned, survived, and stayed strong.
The New Year beckons with a lot of hope
to forge new paths and to never ever stop.
So go to new places, make new friends,
go hike till you reach the rainbow’s end.
Go read new books, go get that degree
go earn that paycheck, go live life fully.
For opportunities and dreams never sleep.
They’re never lost; they can never be buried.
They move on riding with the cool breeze.
Waiting to be brought to life; to breathe.
We all are this New Year’s chosen ones.
The bold achievers and the young guns.
So, go forth and with your own alchemy,
go find that treasure from your dreams.
The groom waits in a suit of prussian blue.
The moon, clouds and stars are invited, too,
to celebrate the grandest of all rendezvous –
Two celestial beings uniting in a love so true.
With each passing second, he grows darker.
The stars twinkle as they all gossip and titter.
The moon shows off her gown of silver gossamer
While the clouds waltz around in a twirling manner.
Atlast the bride arrives, stepping towards the altar.
The celebrations pause as the long wait is over.
With a smile and a blush, they kiss each other-
The colors of their love spreading into the yonder.
And if you were awake, you may have seen
the guests saying goodbye as they were leaving
to tuck themselves in a place of sweet dreams
and return for another wedding in the evening.
A red rose bloom and a lovefool
on one Valentine’s Day in school –
She was the prettiest girl in class
oblivious of the love in his heart.
There, she was talking to her friends,
fresh like the blossom in his hand.
He stepped forward to let her know,
not noticing the crack in the floor.
A stumble, and he lost balance!
The rose flew off in that instance,
landing on a book of History
held by the principal while walking!
What followed next was comitragic –
A meet in the old dragon’s office.
And, to add to the embarrassment,
a letter was sent to his parents.
Thus ended the love before it began.
Cupid! Your arrow has strayed again!
What’ll happen next – nobody knows –
to the young lovefool and the rose!!!
It begins with an inspiration,
a fleeting thought
speeding through the mind,
and then its caught.
The idea scribbled on paper,
then crushed and trashed.
Slowly, it starts to shape up
in the second draft.
The words play together
to build the narrative –
A similie here; or a metaphor,
create a bit of imagery.
The verses start forming
with meter and rhyme.
After writing and rewriting,
flow the chiselled lines.
Here comes the final version.
and with an artsy flair,
it is released from seclusion,
ready to be shared.
Such is the evolution
of a work of poetry
A journey from evanescence
to a joyful reality.
wordsofhope 