Maruthi

An isolated Ashoka

Huge, in fact, with branches

Mesmerizes ye all

To bathe in fragrances

And a red-hued flowers

Indeed a feast for all

A gentle breeze caressing

Both thy body and soul

No wonder, it’s but serene

Whirr…., a sudden whirlwind

Tossing them up and down

A panic-stricken few

Make a pell-mell dash for cover

Wow, it’s Hanuman

Jumping down to Our Sita

Who is mourning under –

Ram, Ram chanting

Sweep through hearts

Is it a trick by Ravana?

No more mystery it’s !

When Hanuman unlocks

The knots one after the other

Oh, how sad! How painful it’s!

To see a rainbow hue

Yet a glint of surprise in eyes

“My Rama’s Kanayazhi”

A chant takes a toll

The voice of Rama heard

A hope of rescue to come

“Chudamani” is thy message

“Till I reach my God”

Tears choked her voice

Thus she bids thee all.

Aurora

Cooing cuckoo calls

It’s dawn indeed for all

No more sleep now

See thro’ the window

How nice it’s … !

With the golden locks

And red-hued spots

Is’t a magic carpet?

Oh, ye march in the sky

When breeze makes Her way

The whiff of past in air

Uf! No more sleep now

Ye ‘re a furnace

To singe our hearts

Brain can’t move fast

Body cries feeling thy wrath

Why ye spit flames so hot?

When Prometheus is not here

To champion a cause

No more sleep now

When will ye hear us?

Desire

Tulip, lily, lavender

Daffodil and rose or

Cedar, eucalyptus,

Sandal spread in air

Sky-high forts and

The birds’ rainbow

Deer, fox, kangaroo,

Elephant or zebra

Know not what to choose?

Or what not to… ?

Mango, orange

Grapes or Cherry

Hi, so delicious

To see and taste

Live, dance, sing

In rain, in hot sun

Or in whirlwind

To be a flower,

A creeper or a

Bee to suck

And give honey

Know not what to choose?

Or what not to…?

To be a macho man,

Or a sweet woman

Or be both in one

An innocent kid,

A playful youth

Or a grey-haired

To sigh and recall

To enjoy and share

The fun or fight

Groan or moan

Cry, scold, love

Laugh or talk

Know not what to choose?

Or what not to…?

Ye ‘re the root

Of all evil, yet

The irony is to see

The right and wrong

Empty we stand

If we leave thee here.

Magic Bowl

Don’t seek here for a morsel

Sorry, it’s dry, dear squirrel

At the back of the garden

Sitting high on the wall sighing

Left ‘high and dry’ with no food

For the master ‘s on leave

Ye, crows, go else where

Don’t know about Him and

His whereabouts, ye dear

Gone ‘re those days, when

Called me as ‘a bowl of plenty’

Now left uncared for:

For the master ‘s on leave

Lonely wait here sighing

Will ye come here crying?

Ye, the father of three

Bye, bye, please take care.