When my mind wraps up my body
I can hear the divine rhapsody.
When my body aches and breaks
My mind plays ducks and drakes.

Why can't I be I?
Copying others strenuously try
In the fire-pan I fry! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

My bar is unique
A bar-less bar
Whoever joins it
Becomes a star

The rich or the poor
The Civilized or boor
Feelings don't injure
Equal treat assure

Color or the creed
Country or breed
Such ideas don't feed
Serves without greed

Bathed in divine light
Its visitors don't fight
In their drinks delight
Here Santa's gifts blithe

Bar girl in divinity shines
Serves the 'Soma'* divine
Come here, dance and dine
Ill wills to Krishana** consigne

(I met Kabir)

This morning when in trance,
At my body I had a glance,
Me, its composition amazed,
How deftly are the elements caged! ! !

I met a potter, the Earth,
At the wheel she had berth;
Carving the pots so fine,
No artist can ever design.

Its every piece was unique,
Built with a perfect technique.
She had designed a cage,
Nine exits she did stage.

The Fire provided it the fuel,
The Water did keep it cool,
The Sky did its limit provide,
The Air bird was there inside.

The Air fanned them all,
Them in their places install.
The world suddenly became alive,
It was at the Marine Drive.

The bird inside cluttered and danced,
Its all activities I glanced.
Finally, Life bird flew out,
From my trance I came out.

one fine spring morning
sitting in my chair
newspaper
in hand
basking the sun
in front of my eyes
a scene thus run:

a sparrow perched
on nearby neem tree
sailed to my verandah
and sat on the sill,
in front a looking glass
a while she sat still
a little thoughtful
a little perplexed
finally she was
bitterly vexed.

her own image in the glass
she couldn’t tolerate
to beat it with her bill
at the glass she knocked,
so madly she did drill
as if ‘the other’
she would ****.
in doing this
she broke her beak
all over the beak
the blood did spill,
ignorantly her own
she couldn’t bear
mercilessly her own
with her own beak tear.

frequently she visits,
she now understands,
she comes with her company
but I never saw the repeat,
she and her company
seem to have known
the harmony in Nature
to places they have flown.

WE ‘the roof and crown of things’
spill blood of our brothers
some times on 9/11
in US and fly
again in Jaipur and
Bombay high.

How long will go on this ****** trail?
When will the harmony in man prevail?

C. P. Sharma

I am in the river Nyle
In the Ganges water that never defile,
In me there is no guile
Perfect clean is my profile.

In your snow flakes I am
I am the scent of its snow,
I am their soothing grace
With my warmth they glow.

Earth and sky are my home
In love bower I bloom,
I shine in all shades
My brightness never fades.

Just in the blink of an eye
I cover countless miles,
When I sit down to write
What I sketch are your smiles.

C. P. Sharma