By
Tanmoy Bhattacharjee
Graveyard
The husky groan of the leaves
Are coming
A lonely mother bereaves…
She benights the fervent hopes,
And prowess of her son.
Shedding tears
Over the Lifeless white.
Pieces of red fragrance
Shrunken overtly.
With poor eyeshot
She plunges into
The other tombs.
…The last embrace
I inquire … Rain
Music is yours, Rain.
You whisper
We hear
While oneness with earth
You make prosody
Of all the lives within
While you cry
We smile
But when we cry
Where are you, Rain?
Barren lands find meaning
You propel roots and fruits
But who will wash away
The filth of mind?
Let your drops be
Enlivening
Ah! The charm of reading poetry that doesn't obfuscate but clears... thoughts that do not meander but lead. Loved the poems. Arvind Passey www.passey.info