nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----

my body, the heap of sand
becomes the shore, the soul,
when your finger tips of tides
creep on my spine
the fragrance of anesthesia crawls like crab
the aesthetic flame circles like sea-gull
on the shore
the dawn and dusk compete to copulate
with their own fate
gifted are the shells
the sweet memories of the garland
the secrets of our love
that simple open secret of happiness

nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----

what is now ?
unknown depth of the sea
your unfathomable silence
---- and this tear-drop

foam along the shore
the secret signature ----
the waves of hair on your fore-head
sad song quivers on my lips

nothing but waiting like lonely war
the wounds are sweeter than the cure

why these wounds of hope
on the chest of sand-bank?
and why this cure of mystic smile
on the sharp edge of sea-breeze?

what is now ?
unknown depth of the sea
your unfathomable silence
---- and this tear-drop----
dialogue between wound and cure!

night
how it blooms ?
neither you nor i know !

minutes melt
leaves leave
kites disappear
where are they murmuring?
neither you nor i know !

the tipsy alluring breeze
hanged a memory
in the soul of yours and mine.
why it stumbles in our respiration?
neither you nor i know !

love as lust,
experience as emotion,
the soft womb of rain-drop
sculptured as glow in pearl,
what flows in between poles?
neither you nor i know !

night
how it blooms ?
neither you nor i know !

only known is that
frolicking
in the rain of stardust !
rest is illusion !

desire
like pyre,
like
a piece of wood
i am,
ignite
the spark
with love
if not,
with hate
-- but
remember
deep in
is the spirit
of phoenix--
like
the fire,
hidden
in wood--

Are you ?
a monotony of the calling bell to dissolve like any other sound?
No --- never--
you came
like the blossom of lily and brought in the silent serene scent,
like the ever desired guest to add purity to each corner of my abode

Are you ?
the round mark of the bottom of the cup on marble top to wipe out?
No --- never--
you embossed
the sweet chirping of birds along with the shades of seasons,
nodding in vase, to tickle the dreams of my drawing room.

Are you ?
the bed that soaked with the longing of our curves
ever it be dried not to trace the spirit of glimpses?
No --- never--
you taught
the tranquility of coition of souls
pollination of mind and heart in the flower of body ----

Are you ?
the fare-well marks of feet on the dew to vanish in time?
No --- never--
you are
the navigator, rowing upon the tide towards the east ---

you are
not a simple land-mine to blast in the quietness of grave --
you are
the red signature of every encounter on the tender green forest--
you are
the red-sun on my fore-head of future
the native tribal song on my lips
you are my companion.. my guide..
you are the call of the dawn..

I am the anxiety searching for your news every second.
I am the fear not willing to hear about any martyrdom !!!
And I love you as I love myself, awaiting the serene scent ...

getting wet
alone
in moonbeams,
so, i am seen
soaked
like a solitary night--

digging
the heart
with crowbar of thought,
so, the gushing of
lyrics of tears--

able to wait
for the trilling notes
of dawn,
so, i can sprout up
like my belief--

feeling sultry,
the air encircles the fan palm trees

afflicted stray cloud,
stipples in vain on banal sky

the presence beside the window,
hangs between sleeping and awakening

the soul starts to chat
with your images on window glass

the lithe summer night journey,
embraces the creaks of mind

the thirsty sleep,
drinks the dreams heartily

the grieved ship,
itself becomes the consoling sea

this summer night-
this journey-
the first inclination
towards each other-
these senses recall you

as i tie my heart-beat to your anklet
as i accomplish the wings to meditating caterpillar
as i trim the curves of rainbow in water-drop
as i gift the freedom to the breeze

you become my word
you become my journey
you become my love
you become the wait at my destination!

the lithe summer night journey,
embraces the creaks of mind
negotiates with the memories of bodies
it is an attractive incomplete devout journey !