SPLENDOR REGALE

The tumultuous din around me is raised.
Streaks of lightening and thunder comes as reminders.
Fogginess of a different kind takes the top spot in my life.
Frantically in search of the Alchemists' stone.
That transforms lead to Gold.

A sweet whiff of nostalgia.
Catches me unawares.
Recked, unrecked it returns.
With REGALE splendor.

FAITHFULLY YOURS

Time has coagulated since then.
Nothing ever comes sudden.
nor strokes; no gushes of love.

Trying hard to peer at things.
With powers greater
a mere mortal that I am.

No heights, no zeniths,
It is just the beginning
A saga of pure sentiments,
Portals glide, stay without rust over years.

Thanks for the nearness.
The glowing tribute paid,
Happiness knows no bound for your sake.

AUSTERITY

Zen, Hermit, Monk, Yogic Saint,
A clarion call for Paradise.
Is it time to pick our rolls from this mundane and macabre world?

Are they not twin concepts?
Inseparable and inscrutable.
A voyage within has started.

Let us keep up the play of Light and Shade.
Life is not so easy made,
each has to complete his share of tale.
Without any room for pain or gain.

Nothing was ever wrought without a purpose.
Accept things one must as it comes.
Live life King size, face it , laugh with it.
Have your share of taste before the reclusive bid.

Casting Coloured Shadows

The distaste for colours,
first Pink and now Scarlet red.
Are we rooted in the visible dimension of Reality.
Then what work has spooks and sprites to do.

No barriers beset for your being.
Let injuries be just skin deep.
otherwise the toll will be something beyond keeps.

Radiance must give its due place.
What is there can never be replaced.
Why talk of seat and talk of throne?
Was there anything not temporary prone.

Instead of uneasy circumstances.
Let us drive away the dark shadows with Light.
Colours of many hues make everywhere Bright.

TIME OFF BEAT

We stand on our toes,
Stretch ourselves and search for time
that's yonder..........
Time that arrives like a "second coming"
It waits not, stops not....

Just whisks us off our feet;Tango a little while.
Filling the moments with hope ans desires
With only empty dreams.
Can we deny that we are
The architect of our own Destiny/

Resurruction

No more loud noisy words.
Whole day whispers make a conspiracy.
Stirring life into every second.
A passing breeze just touches delicately.
With sonorous secrets from Hebrides.
It creates a resonance in the mind.
One rooted to the threshold-
Watching drying footsteps.

How does one speak of Obituary?
Have we not already risen from the sapping debris of History?