...Finally...

                                                     Feather fly as wind blows
                                                     but if feather isn't , what does wind fly's?

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Ink felt that without it
here cant be a dot knit,
It boasted and shrugged at others
until the pen expressed its emotions,

"O Ink! my instrument you are
nothing, can you do, how much ever you dare
for I your master should definitely desire
without which you cant respire"

Before even pen could boast completely
fingers that are holding pen firmly
mocked at pen's unearned authority
and guffawed at ever beings audacity

"You fella ! what a state? I pity your capacity
for without me holding what can you do steady"

Pen was dejected and fingers are pompously blushing
brain from top looked at the fingers moving,
smirked at their predicament and ignorance
decided to remind fingers of their place at base.

"You ignorant organ!that got no senses
its I, brain, who is controlling your movements
know now that you all are my slaves,fists
is formed by my command, for that matter the painful cuts"

Brain was going over all her glory and power,
God laughed at His creations so dear
and whispered to whoever will to hear
the celestial eternal stream pure and clear

"O Love! without my will can anything
be here , yet you clamor to be a superior being."

Then God of small words smiled with twinkle
 like a star over the temptress mighty sickle

'Its my will though, that make all quarrel
with  petty word or mighty gun barrel'

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                                                        Thus, the wind doesn't blow feather
                                                       nor feather fly to destination further
                                                       its flick of the wizened wizard,organize
                                                        melody of this harp and lute bizarre.                

The Other Valley

The world I stay, thrives by differences ;corporeal and surreal
age it adds to make one wise old and other a young fool
body it binds, land it divides and languages it creates
all for a single purpose-to create this valley of differences.

Time! how cruel you are to cut all asunder
brandishing the ruthless sword that leaves me yonder
from my loved ones, whom thy crew rows efficiently
a journey-which makes the left, grieve on past incessantly.

Unfair is this world, that leaves me in present alone
with all I love tucked in past or future trove
work of unbiased fate, I shall speak not forever
for it is the chief of my happiness plunder.

Thus, I cried to the frolicking waves
that die anew at my feet  always,
"Hop not dear young beings of water
this world deserves not thy  happy chatter"

The waves giggled still in my presence,
" O man! why think you of this forlorn place
where a wave lives on the fall of her kin
a place so miserable with death so keen"

"Think of that valley my comrade of life
where all shall  huddle near a joyous lake,
with fountain of youth brimming our cups,
tree of knowledge silently resting unspoken woes."

Closed I, my eyes that have seen only pain
kissed adieu to friends who speak to most in vain
"I shall look for you in the other valley, my dear
where we laugh at all this; serious and unreal."

Of cobwebs and cobblers

                                                            I
Rummaging the cupboards on a rainy day
found I not just untouched books and sundry,
gazed I the master stroke of the ever mindful master
gentle notice to cast-off the mundane blinder

Passing along the unnoticed, on a melancholy street at night,
 moon above peeped over its jeweled blanket, fearful of  tempest's might
glanced I, at a silent worker unmindful of devil lurking,
busy with his mending tools under street light- shining.

                                                             II

Cobwebs, salute to thee, o monarch of sacrifice
thou conquer the things forgotten ,by stupid me
caught in the vast machine of monotonous working,
only to be led away by hands' shuffling and tongue's cursing.

Great is thy service to the forgetful humans,
too busy to follow their whispering hearts
jarring nudge by your presence, on tools once beautiful
awakens man to pursuit of undiscovered bountiful.

                                                           III

Ode to you , O cobbler of careworn travelers
busy in mending shoes into their former selves
thou sits in a nook forever, sans comfort and safety
yet becomes beacon to others- lanes to unending beauty.

Like the tower clock, you stay fixed and unstir
bending meticulously on broken 'soles' and torn leather
hearing their stories of traveled roads  many and weary
pushing them to walk for miles to come for the ultimate glory.

                                                           IV
Grateful to thee, the two silent guardians
O! ever changing and unchanging entities
while one reminds of hearts wishful murmurs
other enables the walks on the beckoning rainbows.

Let us reach the sky with the papers and pencils
pull down the tempest with  fearless heart beats
let the moon come out for once into the open
and we gaze at the unveiled  beauty with admiration.

Flash Lights

Sailing on a murky pond,
in a boat very small yet surprisingly bold
looked I at the flash lights
that beckon me away from the gloomy sights.

Scattered my gaze around this body of water
not definitely a sight that brightens the inner weather
weeds growing ceaselessly into a ghastly demon
choking the beauty all around at the Satan's summon.

The world I be is an absolute imperfect
with evil thriving forever like an elephantiasis feet
trampling goodness into an unrecognizable sundry sum
Look at Hitler? Look at Shelly ? -who caused  more gloom.

Flash Lights...beckon me to water inside
to dive into the murky pond to end all at once
close the eyes and take a deep painful plunge
cease I to exist in this ever morbid mirage.

Should I go after the flash lights?
Should I shut tight my eyes?

Should I take the defenseless dive?
Maybe .... I should in some  future time.....    

A dry tree

I am surrounded
Yet alone,
I am lifeless
Yet alive,
I am showed sympathy
By touching me with their hands

Admires my neighbors
But never mine

But, one day a boy as lonely as me
Comes and stares at me eyes of love
And whispers like wind
Full of spring season load
"I love you"simple three words
The key to unlock my folds

Now too I am a dry tree
But then a party of mine was touched and free
From the clutches of this silly cocoon
I move and live in an eternal spring world
Beyond this world of pens and sword

I am there...
Come meet me...

Well...come

                                    III
Travelling I an unknown road
With few clues of where it lead
Passerby's are of many hues
Some sheer resenting and amiss
Few more blaming the fate
With a feverous hate

Yet scores of people loving
And guiding those who are still living
I pass them all with interest
Confused and unaware of God's concert

Many questions I asked valiantly
Received answers for most jubilantly
Barring few four which I need patience
As I need to go over a long distance

All the while , I find many people
Over my hearts pupil
Searching for the source
Ignorant I was of my latent force.

                           II
I feel in pits and potholes
Suffered as if burned on charcoals
I went over the bumps
And jumped over across the shrubs
Always gazing for the one
Whom I thought else someone

A mud path I saw then
Whose kind I saw, don't know when
My foot prints trailed on the path
While I was ending journey most worth

Huge mansion comes to the vision
The way bestowed to end my mission
Sun setting behind the mansion
While sky is invisible, absence of vision.

                              I

Pristine and reflective is the nature
Of my eyes beholding architecture
I neared it, almost a metre left
And the vision made me wept

'God save me and guard me
As you is the only one with me
I opened my eyes and petrified
For I saw many people passed
Heard I my own voice say
"Well.. come to  destination thy"

The voice so recognisable and
Loving I heard always even after this end.
I hesitantly opened and entered
The door final leap to what I cherished

I looked around the interiors Ware
Which is decorated with great care
Realised that mansion is my self
Kingdom of heaven in true self.

P.S

This is not the moment ,I thought
And came out of the mansion with swift
Remembering I don't know how much
But deep in heart engraved - I am truth as such

I said and say to my images
Those which seeks and asks
For it is the sign I sought
To share the richest thought

Kingdom of heaven is in your view
Always waiting to be sought by you
Knock ,the treasure is yours of course
The richest one - thy is all source.