www.allfortheearth.blogspot.com

Brevity of seasons, of life

Whenever I step out for a walk, I am claimed by someone else. With each and every new walk that I take, this feeling only gets deeper. Like how last evening, I was possessed by the brevity of seasons. By the brevity of beauty in one form, but which nevertheless gets transformed in no time. Look at the trees outside. They are in an ambitious burst of green. They celebrate green like there are no tomorrows. The trees; at least the ones unaffected by strong winds and erosion make it a point to stand upright and salute the sun, everyday, irrespective of the measurable impact of sunshine, whether the rising sun tinges the sky crimson or not, or it leaves the crestfallen sky in bleeding hues as it bids farewell for the day. They don’t fret over the ever changing expressions of the sun or sky. Like, I wonder why yesterday the horizon looked very different from today, when the sun decided to come up the horizon. But, the trees don’t bother.

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A leaf, a cocoon

dried leaf

Is it a last leaf clinging to the bleak branch?
A valiant warrior from agonizing yesterdays,
Distraught with the ruthless winter that just went by
Or, is it a cocoon dangling and dancing?
A dried up casing from the outside;
But a receptacle of life; throbbing and thriving

Is it going to fall for an early spring breeze?
And embrace the earth, to become one with it?
Or is it going to stay put till it’s time comes?
To metamorphose into a winged wonder
Is it a pale remnant of a cold past?
Or a resilient reminder of the promise of life

Is it a mistaken attempt to hold on?
Instead of graciously accepting the coming of time
Is it yet another marvel of creation?
An unraveling of the mystic of life?
Or, a mere hint that looks can be deceptive,                                                       That we must look beyond the obvious.

(image courtesy: brucelaisterphotography.wordpress.com)

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)