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Kalyana Apr 2017
I once wished every bad to come your way,
after those lies and untruths you said about me.
Then I learned that the sky's deaf for bad prayers,
and after all these years, I think about forgiveness.

I thought you deserved to sink into the deepest hell
for your betrayal; your heart alone was one sickly well.
Yet as I looked at these tired wrinkled hands, I knew,
this hatred wouldn't last if I had my trust renewed.

How the pain repeatedly told me to avenge you,
after one and another shame you put me through.
But my son’s laughter turned this thought to me;
“Will this bitter enmity become my sole legacy?”

I may not be ready to invite you for a tea,
or to drive you to your daughter's wedding.
I'd rather say, I don't hate you as much as I did,
so don't be a stranger the next time we meet.

I wish you well with whatever good you do.
With a lighter heart, my life will be fine too.
/2016/
Kalyana Nov 2014
thy lips damask in the daintiest rose’s hue,
thy cheeks a garden sprinkled with dews,
thy moans shake, shatter, the coldest mountain,
thy laughter, the sweetest tune.

i wonder thus try to measure thy strength;
how could a small figure, contains so much beauty,
an astute aspect that’d **** sanity for a while,
or forever, if thee attempt!

*Aug 4, 2014
Kalyana Nov 2014
a drowsy droplet
sli-
             thers
from a leaf,
and
.
.
.
f
a
l
l
s
.
.
.
into
a pond

the droplet
dies,
s  h  a  t  t  e  r  e  d
yet its soul
.
.
.
d
i
v
e
s

d
e
e
p
.
.
.
into
the depth,
.
.
.
r
e
a
c
h
i
n
g
.
.
.
unattended shhh
**underneath
Kalyana Apr 2017
Share me the light you’ve won with efforts
Not lazy; I'm just too weak to learn anew
My bones crack, my brain's old, my spirit dims out
I don't have the strength to replant what once grew

These screams in my ears are too real
This pang of pain, this grief; excruciating
“Just jump into it,” they say, with no feel
They’ve never lived, yet keep advising

I set up my own path, a line of antique bricks
It ran from my backyard to the village temple
And ruined it was, by men hunting for relics
While I was on a trip to preach and fix a muddle

I built a new path in the next following days
A stronger one, lined with fine wooden fences
And I left again to dispel lies and hearsays
Protecting strangers from possible offenses

Coming home to find my soul path torn down
I reminded myself, "They knew not what they did"
I fixed it once more, then went to a sacred town
All prayers to gods to take care of what I built

Years after blessing mortals and doing good,
I returned to my lovely birthplace and cried
Seeing my house flat on the ground, my path removed
I told myself, “This slight unease won’t take my light”

I could weave wisdom from unlikeliest sources
Stones, mountains, a witch’s curse, a ghost’s wail
I've turned many wounds into revered forces
A weakling to strength, a stuck ship to sail

Too busy with other people’s plights
I thought my light was self-sustaining
It was not eternal as I was told—it died
Had to pretend it was there and burning

The sun of my youth has set in the west
Under the dark, I’m now awaiting stars
Despite its howl, I’ll force my heart to rest
None I can teach it, but accepting its scars

Share me the light you have learned
This passing time I cannot back turn
/2016/
Kalyana Apr 2017
a weather-beaten door
i knocked on it several times
but no answer
“The old man passed away last month,”
said his neighbor

*first published on PoetryNook (Dec 2015)

— The End —