I Write Poetry

When emotional upsurges and upheavals And repercussions happen within And feelings need to be let out When want I copy down The things going within To coat them with words, The covering and paint of Words, scripts and letters Representing sounds, symbols and signs. I write when I see When something engages my mind Or catches my imagination, When hurt or wounded lie I Bleeding on the thorns of life, When frustrated and devastated in life Meeting tragedy, loss or suffering, When struggle, suffer I When stand I philosophical Reflecting about life and the world. I write when gets it picturized upon Flashing the mind's plane, When dream or see I the images of Or physically When see I the terracotta temples, The flying flocks of swans, The storks or herons by the pond side Or with the fisher men fishing And the tillers tilling the lands. I write and have written after seeing the hills looking blue Against the backdrop of sunny days Shinning bright, The birds chirping During the sudden bleak darkness As for the total solar eclipse, Ganesha sipping milk In the temples miraculously. I write after seeing a hanuman going, A red-mouthed monkey, I write after seeing the peacock dancing Under the clouded skies full of showers, I write after seeing the lelphant And thinking of the mahout, I write after seeing the abandoned ass And its number depleting. I write as and when sweet fragrance takes me over The smell of the white kaaminis coming from During the night-time, The seulis dew-soaked and scattered During the morn-time, The raatranis and rajanigandhs so redolent and sweet, The golden champas and violet-hued kanchans What to say about their beauty and scent? The vultureless hill tops and simul trees Still sadden me Once they used to sit on the branches of the tree Leaflessly lying but full of bulging red blossoms, The naked palash trees during spring But full of blossoms clustered with, The gulmohar trees so full of the clusters Of reddish-reddish ornate blossoms Looking fresh and new.