In the cloudy evenings with strong hints of rain
You heard them once and you heard them again
The air would rend with their cacophony
The torrents would send them in ecstatic glee.
Even a few years back you could find them around
The harbinger of monsoon with harsh croaking sound
On your yard and garden in quite large packs
Frolicking for insects, the great jumping Jacks.
They scoured the marshland in search for food
Calling in monotone and setting you to brood
With your mind gnawed by the incessant rains
That rattled your thoughts and the glass window panes.
But then lands were devoured by the human sharks
Soon disappeared open spaces and parks
Came up apartments and rows of house
Urban growth you accept without grouse.
Now in the lonely evenings with fair hints of rain
The rains will be back but you won’t hear them again
Their habitats are gone there aren’t left any bogs
And with these are gone your neighborhood frogs.

To ritualise the fog

That in mercy

Lifts

To reveal the lit
Globe burning
Life-

Proof

That mind

Is fog

And flaming hydrogen


And one

Winter lanes painted with sunlit gems-
swaying to some unseen whim
Evergreen bastions defending January-
greenery , rail-tie soldiers stand stalwart in brown scenery ..
Songbirds coaxed from their cold weather-
quarters , the sparrow , the cardinal & the -
warbler
Smoke bound for the heavens
China blue dancers tend before the mountain & the marsh
Sprinkle the steaming earth with sage , mint ,wild onion--                      
& coriander..