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Rainswood Aug 2021
Sitting on her clutch of eggs
agitatedly growling.
She plucks out her own feathers-
a warm belly for incubation.
Depriving herself of nourishment for days.
Her eyes glaze over, crazed.
Maternal sacrifices run deep
through her hollow bones.
Watching a broody hen reminds me of how depleting it can feel when you are a new mom.
K Balachandran Apr 2016
Dear star, neighbor of my broken, but adamant  singing heart,
All I wished here in this life disguised as a journey man
Trekking through the meandering wild, forest paths,
Extended moors and misty, dangerous marshes,
Was rooted in the faith that we would meet and connect
With our inner fire and get to gather together our band
The cosmic adventurers at large,each in a disguise  willed.

I kept on searching for the parchment, the papyrus scroll,that has
The secret missions of our lives encrypted, in an ancient script.

Yesterday at night a thunderbolt told the truth,like in days of yore
In pouring rain standing on the river side,wonder in my eyes,I got
The glimpse of a cauldron, floating down in the surging current,
That has all the answers we seek all though this journey fantastic.

As if by magic, or is it a plan we never know the karmic reason,
The scroll of papyrus came flying and sat on my hand, like happened
To many before us, I am sure, and I guess, knew nothing to do with it .

Come home soon, let's learn from this scroll of man, who we are
And the cryptic code  will tell us our kinship with all lives around.
Part of us is in the realm of fantasy

— The End —