Wondering what I should write
and floundering in my own confusion
I thought – why not write about poems
that set me thinking what poems are
A poem could be anything.......!
at best, distilled thoughts put into rhyme
or a moment caught in time
a window glimpse into the world
an engrossing passion’s ardent curl
a snap shot of scenes from Nature- wild
or a slice of life, birth or death
      
sometimes it could be a yearning  
or an image long hung on a pole
a thought turned inside out
or the emptying of a mind about to spill
it could be the liberation of a fancy,
for long held in thralldom
a gnawing pain, long suppressed
or a secret, never divulged
      
As I pondered over the subjects’ enormity
and a poem’s vast scope,
I asked myself- ‘Why hesitate?’
soon I felt a stir inside,
my thoughts broke loose
a terrible block lifted off my head
my silence became audible
I embroidered these thoughts
into the pattern of a poem

Here it is before you, have a look at it
Will it annoy you or will you enjoy!

On the bank of a rushing brook
I sat for hours watching its course.
Peered into the clear gurgling mass
That cascaded down from a mountainous source

Like a slithering snake, it slinks and slips
It babbles downhill night and day
Rolling and gliding through plains and dales
It winds its way to the wider bay.

Dipping my fingers in its icy chill
How my hand got repelled as from a shock!
In its ripples stirred by the kissing breeze,
I saw trees, clouds and the jutting rock-

All floating in queer, fanciful shapes,
Shuddering, trembling and standing still
And the fishes leaving zigzag trails,
Swishing and swimming in the winding rill.

As I quietly watched her speedy flight
With her ***** rising in mournful heaves,
In my ears fell her whispering soft
Orchestrated by the rustle of quivering leaves

I hardly knew the time speeding by
Nor noticed the birds’ homeward flight
Or the Sun moving to the west end side
And the Sky reddening at his sight

As the brook thus continued her headlong ride
To be mingled finally with the ocean wide
I walked, brooding over man’s relentless stride
To be merged eventually with the Cosmic Guide.

XXV

Please,
don’t leave me.
You are the first friendly face
and the first to look me in the eye
for what seems like a lifetime.
Your warm blanket is my savior.

Don’t ask what happened.
Should I know, more so than
the others?
I saw what I saw.
My friends haven’t been found,
my family is dead.
Everything I ever knew is now
lost-
Don’t ask me how I feel.

No, this blood
isn’t mine.
My body is fine.

Yes, coffee sounds good.
And some *****,
if you’ve got it.

Anything to wash away
what I’ve seen
because it feels too real,
you know?

XXIV

Our father, who art in Heaven
hallowed be thy name

Bodies and blood rush past me.
If I open my eyes and let go
of these hands
I’ll lose faith

thy kingdom come
thy will be done,
in earth as it is in Heaven.

This Kingdom breaks under my
people
my hands bleed down and
I cannot link
enough souls
enough lives
to save us all
and I only cry this
prayer to You-

Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive them that trespass
against us.

In every face I see the forgiving
the forgetting and remembering
of the years they let slip
through their fingers.
They cross themselves for
the Son, the Father, the Holy Ghost
and those they love
and who loves them

And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
for thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory
for ever and ever.

Amen.

XXIII

The clear light of dawn may never be seen.
Just another moonless, silent night, and yet-
The voices of the ocean waves gently recede…

The engines cease, and escaping steam
Clouds the still air. The ship is but a silhouette.
The clear light of dawn may never be seen.

A soft noise, maybe like marbles rolling. Sixteen,
Or so. Just a few. It will be easy to forget.
The voices of the ocean waves gently recede…

Through an open porthole crashes ice, falling between
The cracks of the sea, all too soon met-
The clear light of dawn may never be seen.

It was like breaking glass. Glass, that careens
Into the places in our souls where we sing laments.
The voices of the ocean waves gently recede…

Sleep, children, sleep, for this will all be a dream-
Far from now, where cool breezes will thee abet…
The clear light of dawn may never be seen;
The voices of the ocean waves gently recede…