Spring Sojourners

spring_snow_deerAt the winding curve,
Where the road splits into two;
The narrower one leading me home,
Amidst the browned stubble on both sides,
My eyes met a delicate deer’s
It’s winter coat plusher,
It’s tail bushier,
It’s eyes opened wide in some new found happiness,
It’s ears upright, gathering sounds in swift eagerness,
It’s sight reinforcing my dream
An early spring may I behold,
Has been the prayer on my lips
Happy I woke up this bright February morning,
With a noisy flock of winged wonders,
Twittering by my window side
Thronging at their new bird house in my patio,
For their share of morning grain
Their songs fall not on my ears,
But on my eager heart
The little songsters of spring dance not
On the wooden handrails of my piazza
Rather in the insides of my soul
As they excitedly flap their wings,
Incessantly in the late winter chill,
They warm the airs around them
Ushering in an early spring
Melting any winter despair left
In the stillness of cold yesterdays.


 (Image courtesy: home.comcast.net)

A few of my rapturous rides


( Image courtesy: bleeding–roses.deviantart.com )

I see peacocks dance right in front of my eyes,

They tease me in quiet; remind me of my inadequacies,

Their feathers; a million kaleidoscopes streaming,

Tell me you are kidding, as am not the one to feel it

Belittlement is not in my scheme of things, ever

So you better tether them together and keep them safe


Shadows numerous. They pace up and down the windows

In silence, they are eloquent, filling me up with sweet things

They are inviting, they are soothing, and they are peaceful

In their vibrancies, I soak in, taking in as much as I can

Mere dancing leaves; but together, their shadows magical

Wait for me, don’t go away my friends, be there in a bit


Mount Sinai beckons. I start my climb up in pious anticipation

Lightning strikes in passionate bursts, thunder trumpets and roars

Smoke and dust whirr and whirl, my heart starts to pound as well,

Heat begins to swell, my face begins to glow, and light shimmers atop

My feet carry me faster, disrupting my notions of faculties my own

In the glowing grandeur, I reach the zenith, and revel in an encounter uncommon


Precious moments


Sitting by my window side,
Comfortably on my couch,
Reading a book to my brat,
Watching sparrows throw a fit,
For little remnants of grain
Listening to their shrill trill,
Short and sweet and pure,
Looking at them,
Bend their little heads,
Sipping from their earthen cup,
Looking up every now and then,
For a possible hunter
Soon returning to the water,
With singular caution though
Remembering to look up again;
“Is anyone spying me as yet?
Did the curtain move a wee bit?
Or is it just my fearful illusion?
These grains they are so good
Can I just sink my beak in there?
But who will keep an eye on’em?
Did I hear footsteps, one or two?
A hushed whimper of the wood?
Click sounds, shutter bugs,
They are after me you know”
As they muse and mutter,
My brat runs out of patience,
Dashes to the French window,
Pulls the curtains apart rashly
Sputtering a sharp chip note,
They take swift flight
Didn’t even bat an eyelid I
Then dug into the couch in bliss
Closed my eyes for scenes to replay
Wrote these lines in my heart
My tomorrows are richer thus
Thanks to my vibrant todays.

Coffee Flowers


This morning, as I was brewing coffee,
With none other than quiet for company,
I went back in time, to a beautiful village
Where coffee flowers bloom aplenty

Mid-mornings, then, I stepped outside,
Just to walk under their canopies
Lush and green, peppered with white blossoms,
Their surreal sight lent me joy unbound

Under the heat of the summer sun,
Some flowers turned half naked;
Their petals fatigued and fallen off the boughs,
Rested in the cupped hands of Earth

My feet tread on petals white,
Rather off white, as they start to wither,
Cushioning my tired feet as I wander,
Under their thickets invigorating

Their fragrance irresistible,
I know not how to describe it,
I feel taken away from my brethren,
Away to my world whimsical

Such times I have lost count,
For the moment the flowers I behold,
I depart my mundane existence in gaiety,
As my soul glides o’er glades and hills

I then dream about the cycle of life;
When flowers make way to fruits green,
Moving on, they embrace a hue of colors bright,
Succulent yellows and fiery reds

The coffee berries celebrate life,
As they bask in glory surreal
Very soon, they get ready to bid good bye
To the tree that gave it life real

As the tree rejoices,
In the joy of a task well done,
The berries bid farewell,
To embrace another day, another life.