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K Balachandran Aug 2012
Sorrow, the black bird on her shoulder,
she cleverly  hid, when they first met.*
It was flying around her stiff corpse,
they found in a train coach unclaimed.
K Balachandran Oct 2013
In her cryptic words
a thoughtful owl,
proclaimed aloud
secrets never known;
the horn bill was loud
in registering his objections.
Let it be hidden,  he said
like jewels in the folds of rocks,
only ones who searches deserves it.
The forest went still
the next moment;
a harmonious silence resulted,
the tussle, in it was dissolved.
The night--
quickly took over,
spread it's net of noises
inter spaced with silence-
that engulfed all discords,
orchastrated it as music,
then wrapped up everything
in darkness opaque.
1.8k · Dec 2012
Moon's vigil
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Evil intentions of the night
gets deflected by moon's vigilance,
she raises her lamp above the clouds,
night taken aback, prowls behind the shadows.
1.8k · Sep 2013
Eruption
K Balachandran Sep 2013
Deception wearing the mask
of a kind face sowing dreams,
roamed for too long these towns,
around the globe,
that erupted with mortal force,
deciding at last enough is enough.

moneybags having stone faced elegance,
in place of heads, travel in their stretch limos
in the company of swindler princes,
wizards in money juggling

at the foyers of seven star hotels,
where the false suns dawn
at sunset blackening out truth,
they stepped to the tunes
holding hands of power,
the beauty without a heart
goes around with the plastic mask
that transforms according to the stage.

they who charm you with
glib talk and usurp power,
at favorable climes
jump upon unsuspecting
hotel maids, like
resurrected ghosts of vampires.

Every street is dark
with heaped carcasses
of hopes, birds died
at their flight, in ways mysterious,
falling in thousands,
in front of the stunned faces,
of lovers, husbands, wives,
families are looking distress
on the face, every passing day.

The octopus sitting at his
secret castle in water pulls string,
continues winning spree,
as no one raise their voice.

Not any more;
the waves of people,
seething with anger would lash,
against the citadels of evil empires.
The rebel forces have their cause,
this war, the eruption of masses,
will gather momentum, they won't lose.
K Balachandran May 2014
I nip your soft bud
ever so tenderly
during my nightly visits
to make you open your eyes,
and blush, I love the flush
spreading on your cheeks
mademoiselle,
                     but you bit
my probing lips lovingly hard,
it gave me new ideas
that you didn't expect me to carry out
in presence of morning mist, curious
that peeped from outside
the limits of this quaint pond.
I love the honey seeping out
without any effort from my part,
I am a blue beetle that loves
to smear yellow pollen all over.

Look! your buds aren't soft now,
*****, they have become truculent,
if they want to rub me wrong
do you think, I'll back off?
I am game for a tete-e-tete,
better now, than later.

A beetle that find cozy warmth
within the purple folds of your petals tight,
every night; being a lotus
you should know what I seek,
let's get it together, single-mindedly
warm, fragrant, cuddly lover.
K Balachandran Mar 2012
A sudden flash,
lightning's cuneiform write,
on  the plack of pitch dark sky;
like a truth derived from lives

Sudden  insights,
in human nature strike unawares,
if you look around,
some times even casual look reveals.

Likes and dislikes drive human lives,
and civilizations thrives or bite dust,
on their merit,
they are like leaves sprouting on a plant
an act, result of the land it stands and nutrients
it receives,
what complex laws work behind it!
how would you capture the essence of this?
--meaning is elusive even if you peel
the onion, for long,
human nature defies all descernable patterns.

Pharova Khufu of Egypt,
wallowing in riches, all his life
(in the stories of past)
was in love with
his two boats, more than any other thing,
(one made of acecea and other from cider)
king, aimed  his longing's sharp point
at this two wooden objects,
(a guy who had no problem in focusing
bless him, he deserves credit for that one decisiveness)

And when he died,
they thought these boats were the things
he would miss more than his wives,
what else could be possible?
they carefully laid to rest with him,  these two beloveds-
Khufu with two lovely boats; his love objects,
his wish was honored
*
Imagine a man of immense wealth
which eventually reduced to  some wood,
the size of two boats,
(the symbol of futility
human life represents,)
trveling the great beyond,
with his legs, one each
on a boat.

                
1.8k · Dec 2011
Rubbish dump turns around
K Balachandran Dec 2011
******* dump
needed
make over;
'gold heap'-
what a name!
       O
K Balachandran Oct 2016
There was a young man  in Travancore,
who joined a program to control anger,
The instructor, a sultry, bold miss
suggested, "Let's start with a kiss"
Her stunning  range upended the ******.
Travancore was a kingdom until 1949, at the very southern tip of Indian Subcontinent, now part of the beautiful,verdant state of Kerala
1.8k · Dec 2015
Love beyond all limits
K Balachandran Dec 2015
Ears I don't need to hear the music you are.
I don't have to sing along to be one with thy song
You are the tune, my words fit in, meaning falls in place,
The voice rises and falls,the  journey of my music thus begins.

You are the river of nectar, that never ceases to nourish my shores.
That doesn't need any space or time to flow through; it never ends.
A drop of it's ebullience, I am catapulted from the flow of your wave.
I roam, searching for you, to return and immerse  in your fathomlessness.
1.8k · Aug 2012
The Black Swan
K Balachandran Aug 2012
Wasn't it pure dream? every time, they made love,
she feared the unknown; saw omens in everything,
then the fateful day stealthily came,
*a black swan he became and winged towards the horizon.
1.8k · Jul 2018
Rain’s fervor
K Balachandran Jul 2018
Fervorous rain did
Clothe land with thick water sheets;
Clinging and stifling.
K Balachandran Apr 2014
He travels great distance against all odds,
reaches the border, but turns back helpless
she just stands there, impatiently smiling
with extended hands, but making no move
to cross the emotional wall, they built themselves.
prisoners within the self built cells of emotion
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Arresting artificial bloom from a  make believe garden,
Oh! magalomaniacal face of ill gotten glamour,
ribald queen of the kitsch, with endless variety in store,
age, cannot wither your, unmistakable garish taste-
or sadistic delights, each you do organize is outrageous,
than the one before, no doubt, how do you manage?
                  
I'll forget all those in an instance, but, that kiss, oh! that,
the one you gifted, to show you were pleased utmost,
stealthily away from the eyeshot of your posse of lovers,
other cannibals and party animals, under the darkened staircase,
was the last godforsaken straw;
 what a poor camel can do? if you so desire,
beggars, never were the choosers, you'd tell yourself,
in a self congratulatory note,
                      that much I am aware, my dear tormentor!
K Balachandran Jan 2015
He lusts after her, just the luscious woman in flesh and blood,
she yearns for what is burning deep within him, luminant
she saw reflected in his dark eyes, when he peered at her *******,
but didn't sense the horse, overwhelmed by the scent of a mare in heat;
between heaven and earth, they stood divided,oblivious of the fact
that love is a flame that ignites only when they stand heart to heart, together.
Flame of love burn low when lovers see their own mirage in each other
1.8k · Oct 2011
TRANSCENDENTAL LOVE
K Balachandran Oct 2011
placid lake
on it's water plane,
feels
the presence
of the blue sky-

blue vastness
gently kiss
blue depths;
the stamp of love
unfathomable
creates reflections.

wandering hands of
reflected clouds
incessantly caress
the lake surface

sky beams-
the lake had been
ardently courting it
for eons.
the lake could
hardly contain
it's leaps of joy,
the waves dance:

the sky,
-in evidence of it's
transcendental love,
incomparable-
has come down
and stamped
it's likeliness.
1.8k · Dec 2020
Winged Creatures.
K Balachandran Dec 2020
She whispered this to me softly,
"I know the birds really love you"
When we two rubbed shoulders
As if it was by chance, when
All eyes were busy on other things.

"Were you spying on me, may I ask?"
I faigned hurt, just to add a needed drama,
In fact I was glad she had found out  a thing,
That stands me apart in a crowd like this.

"Strolling in the park, I chanced upon you,
And curiously watched how the birds
Thronged on branches under which you sat,
I guess you are  an ace  player of chess
Who knows what to move how and when"

With curious eyes I peered  at her and
Felt wonder;she knows something
About me that I wasn't really aware of
Though I had enough reasons to suspect it.
Though in one thing she went wrong,
I never was one believed in secret moves
Never was one adept in what, when, how
Part of things, but sought mystery
That nature brings at every turn!

Weren't birds my best friends I recognized
They found something in me that they loved
But thought it all so normal a matter, till
She found out the esoteric bond we shared.

Perhaps she is right, or the opposite, wrong
How much of us is hidden from ourselves
I stood undecided, she lets out the secret,
"Do you know you have hidden wings?"
At that precise moment I find she too has wings.
Bird esoteric bond drama spying. Love mystery secret longing
1.8k · Jan 2015
Yogi's quest has subtexts
K Balachandran Jan 2015
The forest is still, like a crouching beast, slowly seeping
in to our cells as a tranquil wild feeling,
behind the closed doors of our room mon amour
is busy in some secret ritual I suppose.
I am watching the dance of tangled trees
leaning over the veranda rails of the forest lodge,
door opened, she appeared, asked me in,
across her luscious *******, my name is written in brown,
I get the prompt, like all urban animals would,
lick the chocolate from  her perfect ******* down little by little,
and feel how each swell second by second
"Whatever you deem fit"she suggests, unambiguously
I saw desire dance wildly on her eyes, nature's prompt
I am a yogi, let me confess, my heart set
on the union on the highest level, that tempts
but the demands of here and now, can i reject?
all it says is this"Be a bhogi, seeker of sensual pleasure
as this moment is ripe for that, neglect it at your peril"
I am not  dogmatic though seeker of truth higher,
I have to get ripe more, now I understand,
I obey her, my sensual desire and the call of the moment
I won't fall as this is the truth at the level of flesh.
Yogi--one who seeks truth ultimate by merging the spirit within to cosmic spirit through disciplines of "YOGA"(confluence) including physical and metaphysical practices called "Ashtanga yoga"
(eight path Yoga)  Bhogi--sensualist (The Sanskrit word Bhog is the root of ****)
1.8k · Feb 2015
Gait analysis
K Balachandran Feb 2015
The most elegantly turned out beast
                                   that in two legs roams in my part of urban forest,
with such impeccable taste and a heart
                                  brimming with prurient thoughts, transmitted
with the beat of brows, two bows,cannot be any other;
                                   I am in a poetic elation, at this moment of
thunder strike in my center of amour, as I watch your
                                  rambunctious locomotion, intently from behind.
1.8k · Jul 2015
The hunter and the beast
K Balachandran Jul 2015
A hunter is in my core, with an angry roar,
                   in to this forest I stray with a vengeance,
where ancient trees, serpentine vines,
                   with thick under growth tangle like ghosts in heat
and there in the dark center stands
                  the mysterious beast wearing a grotesque mask,
the heroic hunter can't wait any longer,
              **he removes the mask, I face me, the intrepid beast.
1.8k · May 2012
Thief's gift
K Balachandran May 2012
My kayaking partner, stopped paddling
suddenly mid-lake;
gave a kiss: surprise gift,
*(if only  my girl doesn't smell the theft)
K Balachandran Feb 2014
His eyes rivet on the extravagant evening sun,
in frenzied creation, profusely mixing colors,
applying on the canvas of the horizon,
painting her, his lover with astonishing precision,
--portrait of a girl in love
unmindful of what the world thinks about her
and in  total dedication to her man.
Love makes larger than life heroes out of weak mortals,
and creates echoes on the far horizons that keep on reverberating!

She sits quietly holding his hands as if it is all she needs
never thinking, it is obvious, whether this is a fallacy or ultimate truth,
that holds good for all the changing seasons.
With her long chiseled fingers she draws
something beautiful, a motif that emerged in her mind,
in front of them, the seascape, was a lively cyclorama
framed by bright ultramarine.
Like eels just out of water,  their bodies gleaming,
bikini clad glam girls, beach soldiers spearheading
an undeclared beauty attack,
on the look out for hidden challenges
while walking past the love pair,
each one stands awhile, scrutinizing her thoroughly
measuring with a scale, hidden in those eyes,
as if she was a **** on parade, even women couldn't help covet.
Though inappropriately dressed, for the beachfront appearance,
she invites more attention,  she is amused.
But after a tumultuous love, and eventful elopement
she is in bliss,  in her love-land with her prince
she is just ecstatic, no thought could  make her shake off her composure.
1.8k · Nov 2012
Crossing the Rubicon
K Balachandran Nov 2012
On a rickety bridge,
across roaring Rubicon,
in spate, he stands,
holding on to a
Janus faced moment,
that will decide his fate,
once and for all.

He gazes at the rushing-
red waters, from the hills,
madly impatient to reach the sea,
                                  at the earliest,

akin the ****** frenzy at the ******,
or life racing towards death, to culminate, dissolve.
Some message, he has in it.He looks on, in silence.

Two options, his mind discerns,
cross the river and trudge
to the rendezvous, where
the union has to take place,
with his sweet heart, of long years,
or jump in to the  surging waters
that tempts, from the time of birth,
and submit oneself
to the hands of nature,
and thereby forget all tribulations.


**He shuts his eyes and contemplates,
then, his moment of truth comes.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Fine worry lines
make her face
even more pretty.
that again became
a source of worry;
what if she starts
worrying more
on worry lines
and
even more
on
them
looking pretty.
1.7k · Sep 2018
Earth worms in steaming mud
K Balachandran Sep 2018
Squirms of red earthworms,
Wriggle out of hot mud, die;
Flood’s queer side effect !
1.7k · Feb 2012
a navel gazer hits back
K Balachandran Feb 2012
Navel serves any purpose?
she finds my obsession curious;
fifteen versions of her enamoring umbilicus,
in my canvas, give answers.
K Balachandran Jun 2012
Unlike the males of the species,
mostly hunter-gatherers by nature,
on each girl, gently sits
a charm, one thing or other,
(to the ones she chooses,
more than others,
it rubs off, leaving an effect)

**But note this,
an unlikely item here:
at the height of her ****** rigor,
this sultry siren, sans peril
wouldn't care a fig
about her democratic rights,
you won't believe, not even human values!
1.7k · Oct 2011
FOOT FETISH--2
K Balachandran Oct 2011
Polished black
granite floor,
like a man's
muscular ***,
craves for you--
for the heat
your lotus feet
transmit on it.

Generous,
you gift
a linear array
of foot prints
diagonally
across it.

Following
close behind
I step aside
not to walk up on
your foot prints,
fearing diffusion
of  the epigraphic
arrangement .


Inward curve of your feet
and shape of the toes
make vapor contoured imprints:
cryptic love messages
for my pining heart--
seeing the easy dance
of your feet ,
captured on the floor,
I imagine.
K Balachandran Nov 2014
Across the green of the lawn, the morning sun
makes a spectacular  splash, a wash of gold,
the lonely tree blissfully embracing soft fog
all night long, gets annoyed and feels cheated
as the hands of sun tickles wisps of fog, startled
she  hurriedly leaves disentangling the branches.
A black cat, rudely woken up by sun's sultry pinch
still her eyes half closed,  runs across the lawn,
the dark shadow of the tree fallen across her path
engulfs her, perplexed she rolls on the ground
still her eyes closed, thinks she is trapped and
something is going to happen,"I am dead" she meows,
a morning bird on a low branch, seeing this,is amused,
in mirth she  tweets aloud" you fool, you fool, get up"
1.7k · Nov 2012
Mutant lover
K Balachandran Nov 2012
A mutant lover,
now, I 've become,
your creation to a tee.
Different forms I take,
a rabbit, a squirrel,
Tasmanian devil,
or any other marsupial,
a mute nameless animal,
some times even an elephant,
to keep you in good humor,
even when craving for your love.
1.7k · Feb 2012
relative density of love
K Balachandran Feb 2012
why i wooed you ardently?
elementary physics my dear.
the specific gravity of our love,
applied pressure from very start.
specific gravity= relative density
1.7k · Apr 2013
Character flaw
K Balachandran Apr 2013
A wizard of words,
he created from nowhere,
a wonderful space;
        the novelist made
        his characters play out his wishes,
through every little action, he penned
felt euphoric beyond words.

When one among them
 clearly his blue eyed girl
on whom he showered a lot,
his thoughts, writer's craft
             and  much much more,
  to make  her
  well shaped, a cynosure,
unexpectedly
turned cheeky and crossed limits,
the novelist got terribly annoyed.

*In the dead of night,
during a rendezvous with her paramour
the character had a
horrifying end.
She fell prey  
to an assassination plot,
hatched by the  patriarchal novelist
Have you ever caught a novelist red handed for character assassination?
K Balachandran Aug 2013
Distant night built a home at the heart of the forest, sun had long forgotten,
lovelorn moon set up its nest for memories-
in that lake where 1000 migrant flamingos live for months,
When the hands of dark night creep towards them on the sly
flamingos tightly shut their eyes and dive deep in to the waters of sleep,
when the evergreen memories of ****** moon each one desires haunt.
As the moon wanes, the night lay in wait, in its forest home dreaming white flamingos
                              that swim in the pool of milk the moon has created for her sweethearts.
The interplay of duality- darkness and light- is complex
more like the warp and weft interdependent
to weave a  reality,  not diametrically opposite like love and hate(I suppose)
1.7k · Mar 2015
In the heart of darkness
K Balachandran Mar 2015
In a spire, in the white mansion you live in a colorful dream,
but here in this dungeon, of a nightmare I am trapped in reverse time,
a secret passage will bring us together, says your incredible message
but my love, tell me how, if I am forbidden from even dreaming you?
1.7k · Feb 2013
Silly moon, jealous night
K Balachandran Feb 2013
Silver spilled by moon,
rains over the long white sand dunes;
dark night gets jealous
1.7k · Feb 2015
The songbook of the blue jay
K Balachandran Feb 2015
You still are my blue jay of yore,
the songbird on the low branch
of the evergreen tree under which
I pitched my tent till my thirst was quenched
by your arias in blissful altisima poured in to my soul.
Your songs steadfastly refuse
to go down with time like leaves that wither and fall
those immortal moments, you gifted
did flow in to the blue ocean of time
where i float, refusing to  be beaten down by waves.
Those notes by sheer power of infused spirit
of your heart, make me still buoyant, I am indebted,
your song book,  in gold is engraved,  in my heart.
One journey continues, unmindful of every change,
through planes of timeless nature where we are one
defying rules man made, and imposed by mind.
We are two pure notes of music that fly, up and above
merge with the sonorous primordial hum of divine.
beyond   mystery-plane     subtle    union
K Balachandran Mar 2015
he wandered in to her light,
darkened by her broken desires.
since then he only preferred
darkness, pure unadulterated!
darkness coiling within light
denies it's truce inner motives
gives a bad twist to the light.
1.7k · Mar 2012
on boisterous women
K Balachandran Mar 2012
i am open, non judgemental,
hold nothing against boisterous women;
*(if they are some others'
girl friends or wives )
1.7k · Nov 2011
consonance
K Balachandran Nov 2011
water lilies
dance gaily
on ripples
breezes
incessantly
arouse.
1.7k · Jan 2016
Under the blanket of fog
K Balachandran Jan 2016
The world as we know it
doesn't exist, from an evening days ago,
unruly fog with the menacing arrogance
of a killer whale, skimming
in the shallow waters near the shore,
has made the world vanish
without any trace, how long it would last,
no one could hazard a guess, till now!
"Is it the end of the world?"
within closed doors people wonder.
1 But no 'bang' of any kind was heard
did anyone hear any suspicious 'whimper',
the weather women with a broad smile
and reassuring voice  fails to tell us.

In this stormy night of primeval elements,
what exists for us is a continent of fear.
Shiver touching the highest recorded mark
in the Richter scale of fear, staring at a
dark night , bundled in white blanket,
all thing moving and static are kept  frozen.
Blizzard, a drunken madman keeps on
inventing a cuss word different, a minute
hissing it in varying tunes and modulations.

I hear no drone of airplanes flying low
to take the landing approach
in the airport nearby, anymore
everything except the storm and snowfall
has come to a standstill,what the morning
will bring, who could tell?
Every heart will be heavy tonight,
if only 2 Stephen Hawking will lift
his cell phone for a minute,
this is the time to ask in hush hush tone:
"Does such unprecedented signals
points that God would play dice
negating the prophecy Einstein made"
1.This the the way the world ends/Not with a bang, but with a whimper(T.S.Eliot)
2."God doesn't play dice" said Einstein, meaning there is an innate order in universe.Stephen Hawking corrected Einstein"Not only God definitely play dice but He sometimes confuses us by throwing them
where they can't be seen", meaning future could be random and unpredictable.
1.7k · Apr 2016
When you fail to notice
K Balachandran Apr 2016
A seed pod explodes,
Ears of the forest perk up,
Mirth in fertile earth.
1.7k · Nov 2011
why lizards are sad
K Balachandran Nov 2011
lizards
are
most sad
when their tails
are cut apart,
the saddest
lizard
on my wall
has to tell
the tale
of thirteen
such tails
1.7k · Dec 2013
A trek uphill alone
K Balachandran Dec 2013
Blue hills yet again beacon
in a language
my spirit understands
so very well.
I trek alone,
prompted by
the  most sublime love
brimming in my being
that makes my life
less of a puzzle.
dreamily I move
following in my mind
a subtle music
that seems to me
is the greatest reward
above all else in this world.
No method
to value its worth
is yet invented,
is there a need?
The path winds up
I drink  foaming green
with my eyes,
jungle orchids of various kind,
play their orchestra
blending fragrances
with finesse.
the music
playing in my mind,
merges with it;
real magic is within us
yet again I realize.
Two jungle babblers
catch my eye,
cuddling closely
preening each other
In a world so deceptive
I cannot but wonder:
a love so mature
or a parting gesture?
I ponder a moment,
in silence
about the vagaries of life
before my ascent.
1.7k · Aug 2014
cosmic conundrum
K Balachandran Aug 2014
the limitless complex
cosmic ocean dance,
the whole phenomena
deep within is a tiny seed,
one single moment, for ever.

പ്രപഞ്ച സമസ്യ

അനന്ത സങ്കീര്‍ണമീ
പ്രപഞ്ച സാഗരനൃത്തം
ആഴത്തി,ലുള്ളില്‍ ഇതൊരു
ചെറു  ബീജാന്തര്‍ പ്രതിഭാസം.
വെറുമൊരു നിത്യ നിമിഷം.
1.7k · Jan 2019
An uncommon affair
K Balachandran Jan 2019
On elephant’s back,
Mahout tenuously perched,
Swoons over moon!
1.7k · Jul 2012
Grace
K Balachandran Jul 2012
Naked sky
                Buddha's eye
                                   sheds gently,
                                                      boundless
                                                       ­               mercy
                                            ­                                                       on earth.
1.7k · Nov 2012
The game pretenders play
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Dressed as humans, we pretend to be civilized,
glib talk, fine clothes, all smiles;
conceal the naked ape, trying our best, with pretenses,
but, it bares its teeth, at the first chance.
we know its a game of concealment and camouflage,
still we pretend everything is hunky- dory,
I am a military strategist who loves that art,
sweetheart, you a con artist par excellence,
we are the best of this species,
we thrive, prosper and proliferate.
come, let's dance, dance in this  unholy hour.
1.7k · Jan 2014
In a mission of union
K Balachandran Jan 2014
A sun, we have
belonging to us alone,
a river of ever flowing
cool waters, our own
where fish from my *****
swim towards her
mossy secret chamber,
a blue sky spreads
all for us, where clouds
of our making
wear colors,
we like  them to adorn.
No make believe
this world is  for us
to be alone with each other,
we carved it
out of nowhere
cut it out like a ribbon
from the map of universe
as we wished.
we are strangers
considering time
in human scale;
but every minute,
each symbolic ritual reiterates,
that we are from too far
where unbound from
the tangles of time and
the elements of a star;
we had known
each other for eons,
light from that far away rays
still shining in our eyes-
alone can speak that secrets, well
she is energy pure--
personified,
Shakti, the female power
eternally seeking Shiva
me,  the male in universe
for the dance of creation.
K Balachandran Jul 2013
From the elements that dance around us, I gather this and more,
a desire to be one with them, in ways one can't fully discern.
A meteorite had fallen in love with me, I am the fire raging inside her,
no evidence one has, how inner fire changes, till it happens!
Look at that distant star, does it speak? But, I know she loves me for ions.
One will better understand, if one lends ears to the tune of nature.
The wind booms its love, caresses the desire, let it grow in to a fire,
we are energies in dance, love and longing disguised, that take many forms.
1.7k · Apr 2019
sky table is set
K Balachandran Apr 2019
sky dining table.
much loaves of bread, butter heaps;
windswept the leftover.
K Balachandran Dec 2015
Hear this beloved river, in halcyon days
I was loyal to this majestic tree, I am attached,
to the sun I often spoke how loving
the tree is to me, and how eager I too am
to transfer sun's boons to my object of adoration.

Each season did visit us, with a  message
different, and I gathered this with joy:
The tree is a book of nature for all to read
and get exhilarated by the poems colorful
that speak in metaphors the tree invent
with water from  it's heart and sun's fire
working the magic only a tree is capable of
to show us as  flowers, fruits or  seeds that, attract
satiate, drive to the pinnacle of aesthetic delight
at times  create forests of future,with a vision too.

I am just a word, with a limited meaning I hold,
in the book of the tree ,that contains millions like me
my unconditional love to the tree is my fulfillment,
in return he loves every word that make his poem complete.

We were in love all through the time I was green,
the day I wore  yellow, got crinkled at the ends,I began
to think of you, river, with a devotion unknown until then,
though you a silver ribbon, was in my eye view , singing a song
of mirth flowing towards the unknown, imagined in our dreams

Our lives, at turns take directions that are not known
the tree once all I have is now from my world detached
flying down from the branch now a freedom I enjoy
receive me on your bellowing bed of water, comfortable
Let's flow together to the beloved destination,you've in mind.
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