The blue song bird
mellifluous singer admired
for her songs that melt
even hearts of rock,
riding the crust
of the adoring wind,
swoop,
            down,
                    down,
                              down
wit­hout a thought
suddenly alights,
heroically tries to sit,
on a high tension power line;
yet another of her
impromptu acts like before,
she labors to convince everyone
in a shrill chirping sound
that dangerously she lives
taking life in her own hands.

East wind, her companion tells
she is mistaken; he tries to push
her away from the lethal wire
on which death awaits with its dark hum

"young and wayward bird
you tell me you learn so quickly
from your mistakes, alright
from now and the moment next
lies an unknown chasm
in a jiffy if you decide to fathom it
no time is left for unlearning what it teaches
and reverse your journey
to the winter land  of darkness
from where no migratory bird has ever come back"
The bird so deaf to wind's words,
still hovers above the wire
the wind in warning hums a sad tune aloud.

Little speckled bird,
quirky nerd, owl eyes-
gleaming behind the glasses,
often you zoom inwards
and land in that never never land
beyond the reach of most,
yet I am in love with your
ingeniousness that defies words.
bit strange it may sound
but I am one who explores
the hidden spaces beyond
my desired comfort zones.
they warn me saying a nerd
is a killjoy, nothing else
Swimming against the tide
I hear your excited chirps inside
making me restless with anticipation,
my intellectual slant
received your approval,
many times,I am hopeful
growing my beard long
I'll wait here, till you return
completing your mission.

you stuffed the sharpest fragments of your past
deep into the pockets of that green coat
so that they couldn’t pierce you anymore

sometimes in conversation, your hand shifts towards a pocket
I give the gesture attention, so you go ahead and reach in

the memory you pull out, you hold before you like a line-up
I tell you I’m not taking mental-picture mugshots

all I want is to hold the parts of your past that hurt the most
and grace them with my tears

for when I look at you, I see a girl with the courage
to pick the broken fragments of her shattered self off the floor
and piece them back together

I see a girl who dares to ask the deepest questions of life
because she has already been broken
and is not afraid of the answer

In your head there's
no tomorrow
as you struggle
to obey
Just a world
of pain and sorrow
all the dimmer
for the day

God is not
a simple notion
nor a set
of languid rules
Not a movement
put in motion
nor a box
of magic tools

Not a book
of sacred verses
left to gather years
of dust
Not a gold or silver
trinket left outside
to fade and rust

Not a man
of perfect beauty
hanging dead
upon a cross
Not a set
of sacred duties
or a river to be
crossed

God is something
so much bigger
A thing no human
can surmise
A spark of life
within each other
waiting to be
realized