Dear you.

Dear you,

In those rhapsodies, Where you were the Elysium, I hid my words of gloom,

I knew in my darkness, you’d be the rhetoric of night,

The stillness that an unsent letter feels, became my synonym,

You were the address on the envelope, that I breathed in.



My sky under the crescent moon,dreams of a dream, where you and I,meet, 
The clouds clatter, adding chorus to the harp, played by the winds, 
The waning and waxing moon,Half -clad, half -nude, swings overthe fullness of our love. 
It’s timeless, this moment, mesmerising and arousing delight, I hear the rhythm of river, in your heart beat.
Hold me, under the lapis-lazuli Sky,As i dissipate into stardust .

Alone yet not lonely!

A bird perched on an autumnal leafless tree, said,” alone is never lonely”, It nests there, on the barren tree, in freedom and happiness, alone. 

The diffused golden hue, whispered a happy tune, into the emptiness that bothered all but a few, the wings fluttered, when hurricane squalled.The bird set out to fight the whirlwind, alone.

Intoxicated by the fervour of formless love, it was the paladin of romance, it flew with shapeless fire of loyalty , in its wings. 
Looking at its might a few called it a cabalist, versed in magic, and interpreted as clairvoyant, But alone in the genderless sky, it flew unfettered and undeterred. 
When the dark nights witnessed the moon dancing on the untamed waves, with spirit, unfathomed, and adventure of certainty, the tiny bird, found a twig, to float over the moon. 
With the advent of April, in its hermetic memory, holding a hermit’s bequest, it migrated with thoughts in its beak, but not a tweet. 
In stillness and agility , it found its way, A pathfinder, it found a cherry blossom to lounge, across the horizon, alone in its quest, to find home. 

A morning like these

The twilight dawn, watched the fading moon,And the crescendo of chirps bushing the new day,The radiant light filling up the blemish of blue, The bells in distance chimes, a melody of a dispersed symphony, Unrelated music expressing emotions and colour, a flux of rhythm, settles on the mute hands of time, Look up, implores the sky isn’t  this   peace, You were searching in your dreams? Wake up , to this day, of bliss and unresisting first blush.

Behind the angst

A storm clatters on the roof, the sky manifests a disquiet,I sense a shiver of fear, as the door rattles,windows  flounder, threatened by the winds of change;
The cracks on the glass are analogous to a spider’s web, contrived to entrap the innocent minds;
The innocuous corners, Hides the ghosts from past,And from the stygian rises ,the might of a dreamy light;
I observe the moon It is yellow and tired,There’s a clamour, there’s a noise,but there’s silence, that magnifies the pitch dark night,to oppose the malice,the sky camouflages, the stars in its bosom; 

Occasional thunders greet my smiles,breaking the ennui, The heart that sinks, with the unvarying sound, echoes with a cheer, “The rains are close by, I smell the petrichor”! 

The battle is incessant exhausted and exasperated  hope is losing its birr. The mind, in its tepid mindfulness,asserts, “night is about to end, the clock is ticking at its pace, hold on a little longer”.Pain unapologetically grave. 
The mess is getting messier, Faith is dwindling,But the tempo is calmer, My stubborn prudence, will not  give in, I know,It has dug its heel in, and waits with patience on its palm;

Storm in its clumsiness, slips into the lap of the morn, And dawn lulls it into a peaceful slumber.Through the cracks, left by the massacring night,Hope, the radiant hope tip toes, to fill the sky with a pink blush. Adorning the royal cloak, the sky, once again, sings a rune. 

An abstract expression!

The nights of heaven, had no lights or stars to guide,

Fallen prey to Sinister murky midnight’s pool.
Were the recluse dreams, bereft of sight or quietude.

That icy touch, without stir or note,
thawed the peace of the fallen dew.

Clamouring voices of abstract effigies,
Cowered under the ceremonious solitude.

Desolate and distressed, a vagrant despiser,
Happy and addicted to being alone;

The highs of zenith, to lows of nadir,
The tidal waves ruined the shores.

But austerity of life, is inveighed by hope,
After every storm, a rainbow adorns the sky,
A cloud floating over a mirage, can mutate it into an oasis.
A nightshade, harbouring the mourners, bidding adieu,
and lovers too, aching in pleasure.
Shadows to shadows,
Light by light.

Tune of heart

The lowered lashes, of those ensorcelled eyes, held him captive,
With memories, he sculpted poems, on her lips he drank love from, 
Strumming the strings of aphonic surges of seduction, he immersed in her caresses,  Folding himself in her dancing tresses, fragrant and brazen, he became the dulcet tune of soaring winds.