It was the thunder
that told us
her bedtime story
that night

tales of new life
of rains, spring
and morning flowers
far, far away

a storm story
to sing us to sleep.

The heart of mine
Sings a tune
That does not need
To rhyme with moon.
The heart of mine
Does not need
Language at all,
To make its point a heed.
It says what it wants,
It does as it wills,
And I let it play
Like a child, unstill.
I let it rupture
Its voluptuous rant
About how it’s ignored
Or let it signal its chant.
I let it pout
I let it shout,
And do I ever
Let it all out.
I listen to its sage advice,
And let it counsel,
Its rhythm suffice.
It has a way
Of saying the right things
By saying nothing,
But still it sings.
My heart does a dance
Whether I want it or not,
But I have lived in a cage,
Why should my heart be fought?
And pummeled down
Like all of the rest,
To be less than free,
To be less than best?
I let it live its life,
I let it chant its tune,
And boy does it ever
Rhyme poems with “moon.”

My fondest memories are those of you
And listening to you sing
For moments could go unnoticed
While time drifted from the mind
You are nothing to regret
You are not a bad person
You are but only, a miracle in the making.
And soon you shall be a savior to those
Whom you used to be. They need you.

Sweet lips and kind eyes
I'd sing you all the praises a man can
My Overworked Angel

touch soft and gentle
you radiant being
a feather against my body

warm and gracious is she
perfumed voice
enough to make me bloom

draw a bath. close your eyes.

soak in your bath. (and then sink, lower)

look up, and then higher than that.

read the discourse in the light. read the flutter, the frivolity, the fumes. read it all.

and sing. whisper. scream. rage. rage rage rage rage rage rage rage. sigh. fall back. lament.

pull the stopper. drain your bath. wait.

stand up. stand tall, and then taller than that.

turn and look. really look in the mirror.

but just look. observe. vigilant.

turn away, not ashamed, not proud.

wrap a towel.

step out.

rinse & repeat.

Sing me a song,
Of light that was
Always mine,

Sing me a song,
Of the little
Moments that weave
My life,

Sing me a song,
Of the burning
Embers of desires
Within me,

Sing me a song,
Of time, which
Will take forever
To end.

-Sayali Parkar

Don’t cry for me, dear
Save your crystal tears
For now we celebrate
Smile
And cheer

Her flowers fall
Her wind is my song
Her rain is graceful
So rest
And be strong

His task is done
His sword has been run
His muscles sore now
Relax
Adjust

For deep in the white
Someday I shall be
Glass oceans calling me
Wait
And see

Deep in the white
Forever we’re free
We’ll sing together
So
Don’t you leave me