winter musing

picture source:www.shutterstock.com

brown dry winter leaves

old life begins new again

weaving emotions

dust rising with wind

and vanishing like a dream

bare trees everywhere

life’s path non-linear connects

all pauses and falls

the faltering steps

leading to the unknown end

biting cold water

meandering ways we take

a pattern evolves

much larger than life

building a story untold

at a lovely park

Found this also in my 2014 working folder on my laptop... 

___________________________

It was a lovely park. Dema was relaxing on the green ground. The air smelled fresh and breathing felt good.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dema saw a familiar face pass by… to her right. It was a bright roundish face, almost bursting into a smile.

However, Dema was frozen stiff. She realized it was the face of a friend who had passed away recently. How come she could see her? Why?

Frighteningly, a hand reached out and touched Dema on her forehead with the palm of the hand. Brilliant light rays emanated from the point of contact.

Dema was scared. Trembling with fear, she tried to call out to her mother. Her voice failed. There was no sound and Dema couldn’t move.

With her voice still caught at her throat, Dema managed to stand up on her feet. Her first thought was to take flight. She turned around and ran to where her mom was.

As she sat next to her mom and laid her head on her mom’s lap, she found her voice.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!”

Dema awoke in bed, sobbing. It was past midnight. Her whole body was trembling. She couldn’t stop crying. It went on and on and on… for quite a while.

Her husband awoke. She moved close to his side. Curling up, she closed her eyes.

The sound of her sobs was gradually becoming softer as her husband gently rubbed her head and said, “Shhhhhh…go to sleep.”

“I had a frightening dream.”

“It’s ok. We’ll talk about it later. Now, sleep.”

A last long sigh of relief… and Dema sobbed no more.

This Every Day

I found this in a file in my 2014 working folder on my laptop.

____________________________

I watch

birds fly;

me

chained to thoughts,

emotions;

my eyes

open;

my mind

closed;

my heartbeat

fluctuating.

I see

hundred pairs of eyes -

above some,

a frown;

below some,

a smile;

whiteboard scribbles,

power point slides -

what do they see?

what do they hear?

I wonder.

I walk

a concrete path

through

long corridors,

up

flights of stairs;

on my chair

as I sit,

my computer

stares at me -

is my breathlessness obvious?

I walk

a tarred road

uphill;

it’s one pm -

time for lunch;

in queue,

I stand;

steel plate

in hand,

fingers

strumming restlessly.

I see again

a hundred pairs of eyes -

sleepy,

pleading,

“No lecture!”

whiteboard

clean,

buzz sounds

of group discussion,

all minds

deeply engaged.

I board

a bus,

headed home;

mind

heavy;

a cage -

wherein

I rest

in silence,

around me

chatter.

And I’m home…

in Haiku style

source of image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/452611831281356120/

he had her covered

just enough not to conceal 

how alive she was

in sijo style...yet again

The last dance they had last year wasn’t really their last, was it?

Yesterday, one such moment, time ticked slowly, seductively.

Winter’s cold followed close enough, but warmth caught up fast with dance moves.

______________________

 

The moment of loud music – garnished with laughs – a taste of fun;

merriment-filled smoky air, those curious stares and we let go of pretending.

Winter's love, warm as mid-summer’s – will spring welcome it one more time?

______________________

 

A bold day like other days yet not as warm with the sky grey,

the cursed sun in wild hiding, nevertheless quite promising.

As it broke, who really did care what lay underneath? There was light.

remembering a test day

Through the glass on the door, I saw a black dog lazing on lush green grass; a rock beside and a few trees too. The sun smiled assuredly, and I saw signs of the breeze’s visits. To the left, the concrete stood firm and tall, as always, paying no attention to the arrival of peace. 

 

While inside, young hands wrote a paper; minds activated by questions. My words did their share of dance alongside, floating in air invisibly. All eyes in the room were down, my eyes all over compellingly. I paced the terraced floor up and down, right and left, my mind traveling miles to no end. The clock on the wall seemed unusually slow.

It was still autumn –

bright leaves dancing on the trees

one hour too long