Category: Mother Nature

The Night

The dark is not always scary.
Black is not always taboo.
At times, the night is a blessing,
And the absence of light is needed, too.

When the last traces of sunlight fade,
The night with her magical ways
Helps our minds and bodies rejuvenate
Giving strength to seize the next day.

The day is like a cluttered room
With chores, tasks, and nonstop chatter.
The night helps escape this chaos, too.
With sleep, life seems so much better.

Sleep! This word is paradoxical!
As we see dreams with our eyes closed,
And what happens is so illogical –
It’s like we’re awake in a parallel world.

The night is full of mystery,
Something that can never be explained.
So, let her weave her own tapestry,
While the world slumbers, unrestrained.

A Season Called Autumn

Somewhere on the horizon
Between Summer and Winter
Lies a bridge named Autumn
That links them both together.

As warm turns to chilly cold,
And the leaves prepare to fall,
They turn red, orange, and gold
For a final round of applause.

Only Nature can pull this off.
A show of Death, so beautiful.
A bright and fiery curtain call.
Before She becomes icy cool.

As the air turns cold and crisp,
It’s time to wear the woolens,
And apples await to be picked
Along with plumpy pumpkins.

The fields yield their harvest.
Folks gather for Thanksgiving.
They remember the departed
On the day of spooky Halloween.

Autumn is a season of change.
It’s the season of letting go.
It screams of happiness in endings,
And celebrates Life’s perpetual flow.

The Sparrow

Have you ever heard the breaking dawn?
Its tiny melodies of chirrups and cheeps-
Harken! the sparrow’s mellifluous songs!

Birds of feathers – buff, black and brown
Greet the big city as it stirs to its feet,
Have you ever heard the breaking dawn?

At times hopping, and, at times, airborne,
They convey their messages with felicity.
Harken! the sparrow’s mellifluous songs!

To their antics and ditties, all are drawn.
But endangered they are, as a species!
Have you ever heard the breaking dawn?

Will a time come when we all will mourn?
In their absence, will the morning grieve?
Harken! The sparrow’s mellifluous songs!

With them, all inspiration will be gone –
Of companionship, joy and simplicity.
Have you ever heard the breaking dawn?
Harken! The sparrow’s mellifluous songs!

PS: This poem is a Villanelle.

What’s in a Rainbow?

Behold the mourning June skies with a beautiful rainbow!
Well, if you ask me, there’s more to it than just its beauty.
It is a promise of hope that at its end lies a pot of gold.

It is a symbol of power as tiny drops split light into colors so pretty.
It is a sign of harmony as the seven hues blend and curve in unity.

It hints at being happy as its cheerful smile makes everyone smile.
It says there’ll be bad days, but they, too, will go away – such is life!

The Flower and the Stone

The flower bloomed high up on the tree.
A splash of red among the green leaves.
The stone sat on the cold earth’s floor –
Midnight-black, and in a constant stupor.

Contented, they were, in their own worlds
Oblivious to how their fates would unfold.
The fragrant flower smiled in the breeze
While the stone stood unmoving, stoically.

One day, the rain fell from the grey skies.
Along with it, a gust of wind passed by.
The delicate flower was soon detached,
And it floated down from the tree’s lap.

It twirled away in its freedom newfound
Landing at the stone’s foot on the ground.
In that fortuitous moment of Pushpanjali,
The impassive dark stone attained Divinity.

The Mango Tree

The great Indian summer –
Dry, dusty and sweltering
With no respite or succor
As the Sun keeps blazing.

Amidst this, a mango tree
Spreads its leafy branches
Blocking out the cruel heat
Under its green expanses.

Many travelers on their ways
Stop to rest in its cool shade.
Birds chirp in their little nests.
Little squirrels gambol away.

And along with these mortals,
Also seeking shade…is a temple.

The Spring-Summer Collection

The cool breeze at dawn
Gently awakens the leaves on the trees.
The Sun rising on the horizon
Greets everything with rosy kisses.

The birds sing delightful songs
With chirps, whistles, coos, trilling and drumming.
They fly in the blue skies, or, in the trees, throng
As they serenade and welcome the morning.

The flowers bloom in a riot of colors
Dotting the green meadows and fields.
The butterflies, from cocoons, emerge
Showing off their newly painted wings.

Even the creepy crawly ones
Have their moments in the Sun.
With rustles, hums, crackles, zipping and rattling,
They all partake in the artistic presentation.

The old hills stand tall in the distance
Splashed in shades of brown and green.
Listen hard, and you may hear in their silence
Tales from last night, and their dreams.

Yes, this is indeed the grandest show.
And everyone has an invitation.
A ticket for a seat in the front row
For Nature’s Spring-Summer Collection.