In my imagination,
My vision encapsulates
Dusk’s parting darkness,
and silver clouds appearing between,
dull twinkling stars.
As night melts to early February morn,
the moon lies half hidden in the dormant skies.
As the morning moon shines,
A murder of lies
And a swarm of fleas,
Shadow box with their own reflections
A dark fog looms around,
Smoke and dark clouds fill up the skies.
As morn melts and noon sets in,
The mango tree on my lawn,
Deepens its shadow,
In the slushy red soil ,
the night rains has sapped out.
The black mirrored Goan roads,
sans pot holes,
Lie gleaming, as the sun chases the skies,
and drags out the shadows without bigotry.
There is no immobility in the air,
but the green ponds reflect,
the blue skies…..
the sea gulls pick up,
and the sun is nowhere to be seen.
birds and bees,
trees and leaves,
the skies and the waters,
the winds and the vibrant uneven mounds of earths,
they play pantomime ,
with each other.
The melancholies of my life,
and the songs they sing,
flow out of me,
to shed away my shadows.
as emerges from within the lies and the fleas,
one final time for fleeing……………
Joys descend upon me,
and so noiselessly subtle I feel.
like the dried mango leaf that floats,
on the languid wings of the moist air.
As the sun sets,
Large portions of the tangerine
and the orange,
the skies have soaked and absorbed
The blueness still reigns supreme in the winter skies,
as I look beyond my room,
a pigeon settles on my window sill,
Your peck on my cheeks,
and warm whiffs of brewed coffee,
cast aside from my dreamy eyes,
dismantling dream time
and slumber land rhymes.
another day in the drama of my life unfolds,
and I exit from that time……
with time in my enduring and timeless pursuit
of a happy life…………
another day I begin………..