At sight, just this one bloom,
that spectacularly spreads,
it's warm purple petals wide
above us, like a big benevolent lotus,
causing  the magic of dawn and dusk,
day after day,indefatigably!
Galloping fast , then leading
to a day,turning it different
for each, an astonishing feat!
Closes at night, claiming  back
all radiance, he brought along,
in between  deftly he addresses
trillions of neurons at work  of every kind
all alone; simply phenomenal!

Isn't it an incredible everyday miracle?

But do we ever thank the wonder bloom
except the ancient sages who structured
a meter* to praise his astonishing gifts.
Prime source of light for the humans, this!
a wonder one of a kind, he sure is,
well, till the day God decides
to play dice, yet again!

*Surya Gayatri--Hymns in salutation of the sun that stimulating brains and keeping the world alive, included  in the ancient Indian texts Vedas  called Surya Gayathri, Gayathri is the poetic meter in which hymn are structured.

majestic white herons,a siege,
spring up, winging skywards
in unison, as if according to a
well designed rescue plan,
following a disaster,
scattering to all directions
from a tree,a flame of the forest
imposing and wildly bloomed,
like a high rise with secret ambitions,
creating an illusion of a sudden fire accident.

The searing pain
my love for you inflicts,
on the swollen walls, blood red,
of my tender heart,
when expecting the echoes
of your  approaching footsteps,


my tantalizing sweet maiden,
as the tribute highest, I can afford,
in the name of all pining lovers
feeling inconsolable,
on such moments of fire walk.

He stealthily usurped his favourite poet's celebrated pen
Strove  hard to write  with a footing on the poet's ken.
In what resulted, others could only see an overriding  yen
recognized patently as his; in this shady  game he didn't win!

The sky kept speaking in a dialect of grey,
did stay overcast all through the day,
like a new bride upset about
her nuptials, right after it.
"Could have been with some zest,
I feel drowsy and totally lost"
she repeatedly whispers, it  seemed .

A vast net of haze fell, first on the skyscrapers
standing in a row, pushing, jostling,fighting,
it then descended slyly on to the tree tops
adorned with garlands of flowers
red, cream, or violet on their coiffures.

They looked lost, at this turn
of the story, unexpected.
A helicopter, with tourists
Criss -crossed the sky as if clueless,
perhaps seeing sights in that light
curious, who knows what they look for
in a bad hair day like this?
we could hardly guess!

A stray bird appeared, as if from nowhere
hastily retreated, sensing the prevailing mood.

"We'll just stay put" she said "til the night would
 rework the story board. perhaps with starlight "
She bit hard on my upper arm, as if
to exhibit her aggressive mood just once
I loved it , she deftly made it erogenous.
She is a tigress, forcefully kept in her den
with a purpose, she slyly smiles imagining.

When the wave of oily dark night advances
inundating us, she is a promise, exquisite

smartphone addict, she
tripped, fell and photobombed him;
in his selfie now

dragon flies galore,
dance above the woods in bloom.
carnival of love!

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