The Summer Rain

Half the way through to my destination.
Having seen seasons, fifty of each-
Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter.
I feel burdened with memories of days
out of reach.
Why then does this Summer feel so barren,
so heavy with the vapors of memories
bitter and sweet !
Clouding my eyes so often,
this Summer rain washes away the worldly clutters,
making space for seasons new.
To gather more clutter
as I continue in life's journey.
Coaxing myself to live the remaining days few.

Poetry-The Ethics And Learnings

A nameless void sets in
To the poet's heart and to the vicinity
Of his existence from nowhere.

The birds stop singing,
The stream stops flowing,
The breeze stops blowing
And the stream of conscious of the poet
Meets a road-block,
As you depart the scene in a huff.
Now tell me...
How shall you assure the birds
That you have come back and
That you shall not leave them
So that they get their melodious voice back?
Now tell me...
How shall you convince the stream
That you have come back again
That you shall not leave it
So that it remembers the formula of its perennial flow?
Now tell me...
How shall you convince the breeze
That you have come back and
That it should come alive from its frozen state
For the sake of humanity?
Now also tell me...
How shall you
Console the poet
That you have come back for good to him
Who laments inconsolably over the
Death of his quill and spill of the ink. ?

The Summer Wind

In the woods I was lost, feeling like a dust mote in the sky.
In these woods, dark and dreary had I stumbled to die?
The olive groves and the silent trees
Were ruffled by the balmy breeze
The birds fluttered and then with a flap of wings, flew high.

The ghostly trees raised their branches up towards the skies
Through brier and bramble echoed hair raising moans and sighs
The air was thick with lamentation
Before me appeared an apparition
Into a frenzy of sudden activity were thrown the quiescent fireflies.
In his gloomy countenance, his eyes, like twin fireflies shone
At this uncanny sight, I quivered and tripped over a stone.
What was that sound insanely bizarre
Someone plucking at strings of guitar
With work calloused fingers letting out moan after sad moan?
.
Ears pricked to the music, I followed the pageant of the fireflies
Rich voices rose in a lilting song offering me a musical prize.
Ah heavy was not the cost
Of being, in the jungle lost
In the sparkle of the pageant, I forged some, new lasting ties.
Row your boat merrily along , the fireflies danced this message
Why be afraid of lurking demons , and flutter like a bird in a cage?
Why should any apparition
Be a cause for lamentation
Forge ahead,you talented actor, performing your role on life's stage!
No longer drifting like a dust mote I hummed a melodious tune
From behind the trees appeared the bright and proud moon
In the woods I was now on a ramble
Unafraid of brier or bramble
Life had once again become a sparkling and tempting boon.