#goa
Pitter patter raindrops gently sprinkle my windows,
Thunder rumbles again.
Sky’s are dark, darker, glooming happily,
The day meanders, hiding and seeking,
and the sky starts pouring its heart out .
Pale silver threads, navigating their way down against a backdrop of green-black trees.
It is June.
And my day of revival, birth and reckoning.
Only a day away from the solstice.
Here in leafy, caressing, sleepy Goa,
the dusk will soon begin its slow, steady, inevitable drawing in.
In my secluded, fragrant, verdant labyrinth,
I sip coffee,
I notice the lone squirrel scurrying away to find shelter,
and listen to birds chirping, bees buzzing, the gurgle of water,
and to an insistent song in my head that just doesn’t stop playing but too spellbound to put pen to paper right now.
And now, as I go for a drive on this quiet, directionless, mellow afternoon,
I cannot remember the word I want to write,
I think I have no words.
The thunder is closer now.
It sounds like drumbeats , the rearranging of celestial furniture, like our transit to this beautiful abode we call home now.
Unexpectedly a bird is singing in the midst of it all unabashedly.
I think about the past.
Not in any structured way. Just people who have come and gone, who linger, who stay and who have left their indelible fragrance around me.
For a few moments, my mind wanders down the past and I sigh at my own predictability.
The thunder is passing. Grumbling and groaning in the distant now.
Each leaf looks freshly washed, scrubbed sparkling clean and shades of green hold my gaze.
The paddy fields look abundant and satiated.
The single bird has become a small chorus, a full roaring celebration on.
I stare at my page. I have still written nothing.
But, sweetness,
I just experienced divinity,
I feel blessed and just absorb the present.
I am the road and the paddy field,
I am the bird, the squirrel and the bee,
I am the thunder, and the rain,
I am the song and the quiet,
In the abundance ,
I am me, what I want to be❤️
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 10:54 AM UTC
#*In the land of sunshine
Slanting palms, oceanic breeze
Brightly painted houses
And bougainvillea vines
Music is alive
Song and dance
Pristine beaches
Sunsets are divine
February is vibrant
Colours on the streets
Festoons and masks
Carnival time*
🔆🎭🔆
Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 10:46 PM UTC
Expanse of sand
Expanse of ocean
Expanse of sky
People with stories
On a beach with as many
In a country with more
Stories I don’t understand
But can feel
Aging hippies
People on the run
The run from normality
There’s a sadness
A sadness in the too thin aging women
Tattoos drooping
On the run from time
Goa
Beautiful and used
A story to tell
The aging hippy dream
Let it go?
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
*Goa Goa Goa
a whisper on my lips
Goa Goa Goa
way she moves her hips
Here at this drab desk
On a drab drowned day
Goa Goa Goa
sings the wind in my hair*
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
It's goa my love,
the piece of earth that you cherish.
Streets are narrow and quaint, tiled roofs falling over each other,
clinging to the beam by their nails.
Atmosphere is sultry with sun, *** and surreality.
Surrounding me is you, in a warm womb of induced coma.
How will it be if my head were to be in your lap,
your fingers combing through my curlies?
Should death come at this moment,
I would welcome it with an embrace.
Heat, a beating heart and a stiffness in my *****
my last few vestiges of emotion.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
once dear
if not again
we must be in
Goa when it rains
find a place with
an open terrace
among trees
and lay there
drenched
devoured
for days
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC