Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Mahathi

I stepped on crackling Autumn leaves wriggling on ground.
I sighed and slowly walked towards a naked tree
And whispered low. “Not long these days. You’ll see around
Fresh leaves on twigs. You’ll see a dancing honey bee
Rotating round your buds and making buzzing sound.”

“Your painful days aren’t over yet. The winter comes
With blizzards shrouding you from all around. She snaps
Your buds and covers leaves. The incessant dew, drums
Your trunk and leaves and covers you with snowy caps.
You freeze and like a statue body yours becomes.”

But lo these seasons cannot reign for all the time.
It’s Nature’s rule! They come and go, the snowfall wanes!
Ye soon, green leaflets bloom, and myriad flowers rhyme
With them. You see new grass and creepers spreading plains.
Aye it’s Spring time when you rejoice and reach your prime.

“”This too is mutable indeed. When time thus spins
Comes nice mélange of heat and rain – The Summer bright.
But worry not. You grow new shoots and leaves with grins
At rain. You make fresh chlorophyll and kill the blight.
With growing fruits on branches lo new life begins.”



My brain is drained of thoughts. A writer’s block
I guess. The doors of imagery I knock
And try to fast recall my letters sweet.
Oh God my mind is like a blank white sheet
Simpering at me with a caustic mock.

What happened to the tropes that used to talk
With me like closest friends all round the clock
And flock around my busy pen to greet.
My brain is drained of thoughts.

I watch the sky and settle on a rock
At calm sea shore. I adjust my long smock
And lay eyes on the cruising long fleet
Of merchant ships, till full moon comes to meet
My world of words and eases my deadlock.
My brain is drained of thoughts.



The Moon is raising high in skies.
O little baby close your eyes.
Let slumber descend slow and sweet.
Go sleep…fair angels wait to greet.

You see in gardens, flowers bloom
and butterflies in flight with zoom.
You see the falling snow-white sleet
and rain. Fair angels wait to greet.

You see the bunnies rush around
and squirrels creeping sans a sound.
Hush, hush, I see your lids don’t meet.
Shut fast. Fair angels wait to greet.

I know you dream of chocolate
and chilled ice cream. Yeah, yeah I bet.
I swear, morrow you have a treat.
Sweet dreams. Fair angels wait to greet.



O Lord I wrote enough of poems on you.
I wrote on farmers, poormen, tears and pain.
It’s time I look afar at pastures new.
I wish I write on something fresh and plain.

I wrote the same concepts, again, again.
Its all so waste of time and dross, I rue.
There’s more of grand and aesthetic domain.
O Lord I wrote enough of poems on you.

I now behold the charming yonder blue,
In fertile fields the dancing paddy grain,
And in meadows the running rabbits few.
I wrote on farmers, poormen, tears and pain.

I start to feel first time-chill, heat and rain,
I watch the seasons coming in a que
And like the soldiers, marching wild ants’ line.
It’s time I look afar, for pastures new.

How much I missed for long, a cuckoo’s coo.
I’s blind towards the budding flowers fine.
I never cared to watch, how parrots flew.
I wish I write on something fresh and plain.

How could I miss all nature’s lovely cue.
I failed to see the morning dew drops shine.
All beauty this so nigh, I never knew.
Once realized, I’m now flying in cloud nine.
O Lord I wrote enough.

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