Sun is now packing its bag,
Showing everyone its vacation's flag.
Taking a small leave from its harsh duty,
Just to give us a glimpse of beauty.

Now, the blue sky is dressing grey,
Cool breezes are blowing all through the way.
Everyone's having a charm on their face,
Also, carrying a strange happiness.

Today, the birds seems to be playing flute,
Even the voice of crow's sounding very cute.
Frogs are croaking like a guitar,
The wind is behaving as a rockstar.

The roaring clouds are clashing,
Thunderbolts in sky are flashing.
Every creature is feeling confident,
Lovely rain showers 're making the day pleasant.

Raindrops are making morning bright,
Thunderstorms are striking at night.
I'm enjoying a new life in the month of "JUNE",
Today, the great nature is welcoming "the sweet MONSOON". . .

6 am
(though it's really 5 am, the sun knows this)
surfacing from dreams into the yawning light of early
regrettably, with a troubled, insecure heart.
With stillness, I reach out in listening.

Birds.

Outside, one boundary away, they speak of the joyous Sun.
They speak of heat and light of day.
They speak of Earth and Nature.

They speak of their Love for me.
For all,
but that all
includes me.

I notice their Love. I drink it
like the skin a warm bath.
Caretakers of the dawn,
they bring the light inside for me.

In the presence of birds
I am friendful,
my soul is quenched.
My heart is smiling, yellow and rose.

My leg stirs,
eager to start the day.

My alarm this morning
came by virtue of the birds
who long before the sun had set the sky alight
had shed the quiet wings of night
and very early came to sing
with news of what the day would bring

Drops of love
are falling continuously
over the streets and the roofs.
A long rain
came to wash away
the sadness.

Birds from my heart
went away flying
far, far away,
to deliver you a message.
These birds bring you
rays of light.
You are my Soul Reminder

In the same time,
I need to continue my life
without you.
I need to go on
singing
dancing
loving
writing
Fully living

For you, on whose
Oil painted skin the stars did sleep
For you again,
Who wept, wept in vain

I’d tie a butterfly to the unwavering sky
If only as a frail worm to
lure the fish
But did we not swear to leave the winged
alone?

Yet, there they are
Causing a reckless havoc
Trying to tear open the blue
And I’d shoot them down
But the ground is ours you see

Wounded and bleeding
The dying, as a fish, squirms
A broken spear pinning him in place

And I will keep on burning this dirt
To bricks
One betrothed to other
With cement,
Your own strange creation
The one you pour out your flutes
And pluck out them strings
Like fresh born weeds
dried and crushed

Songs upon songs
We set free up the yonder

But here is a bubble that will not be butchered
Like our sacrificial blooms
Ripened and fat,
This untouched pomegranate
Ravages itself

Long did our labor weave tales out ruin
To build us a shell
Within which we now reside

Unhatched

How do we do? It is pretty
A sight
The sky chokes on dirt and dirt
Drowns in the blue
Time, a trapped moth, flutters about
It collides around in its blind frenzy
And will not settle

I keep on
Painting our dry clouds
Birds still peck at gleaming stars
And you
You live, live in vain