When lightning strikes
Mountains disintegrate
Into a million pebbles;
Amidst stone crumbles
And broken boulders
Our miserable souls
Ruminate the futility
Of seeking permanence
In an unsteady world
Impermanence
Category: Making Verse
Scrumptious Orange Evenings
When a parched Delhi was craving to embrace rain clouds, the evenings were aglow in anticipation. Ramit Mitra of Delhi by Foot (DBF) adventures, shared this photograph of the city skyline with a comment that Delhi evenings are becoming beautiful again. The orange was endearing enough to make me write a verse.
Rain-laden clouds
In a lavish sunset
Scoop up, savor with delight
Scrumptious orange jelly
Soothing, trickling slowly
Into crucible of the night
Rain Clouds
An opening in the skies
From which the sun spies
On a downy morning
An arrangement of feathers
Clouds waiting to rain gently
Fireflies
Wistful swirl of tiny wishes
Like embers of a dying bonfire
Today a sparkle, ashes tomorrow
Unspoken, unmet, broken yet
Alive, throbbing in a heart
That still believes in fireflies!
Fallen from the Map
Some day they will wonder
Where did all the people go?
With their dreams and deeds
Now rust and patina buried deep
Entangled in moss and froth
Was it life incomplete
Or how it was meant to be?
They find a tiffin box with
Remnants of a meal
A torn cloth – a shroud or veil
Who will tell?
Buried under the turmoil
A lost city of yore
Fallen from the map
How did it plummet so low!
The Armageddon or Apocalypse
Poisoned air or men at war?
How long to wipe out
Another city, another life;
Push a tribe from the brink
How long after we ignore
Lessons of the dead of lore?
Blue Pen Strokes 