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It's summertime
Once again,
Along with the kids
In my hometown

A nature trek and long drives
Paying visit to relatives
Reminiscing time spent with cousins
The golden olden times

Recalling nicknames
Cracking up on the same
Spilling each other's secrets to the children  
Earnestly, they listen to our childhood stories,
mouth agape  

Games we played
The same ,lost to time
Yet ,
As always, keeping the memories and relations alive
A quick scribble
In my hometown.

Stay blessed, dear poets and poetesses .
Bamboo groves sing the symphony of winds
in their crackling I hear my heart
on the red lone summer road.

The village woman passes with her cow
she has no time for poetry
yet her radiance fills me to beg life
more..

O Death be a while away
I've taken root on this land.
On the village road, May 11 2018 2 pm
Sometimes
         Life
               Is
                  About
                             Risking
                                          Everything
        
                          For
                               A
                                  Dream
                                             No
                                                  Else
                                                         Can
                                                                See.
It’s your life, promise you won’t give up no matter what others say.
Lately in my life I pray for things money can’t buy. I pray for the perfect love , I pray for forgiveness, I pray for those who cannot pray for themselves. And I pray for every woman with a good heart to puts her heart in good hands . I pray for things money can’t buy .
                                   I pray.
 May 2018 Bipasha Dutt
Polar
Like hamsters on a wheel we ran
Away from horses hooves
Zig zagging through trees
To be hunted like deer
Hiding in holes
Covered in dirt
Crawling under rocks like insects

One by one, we fell.

In terror, we ran back to the place we knew best. Entered the darkness, remembering our way to the waterside.

Safety, of a kind.

The heavy moon poured light from the star laden sky. We merged from the thick copse to be bathed in the calming white of her rays.

Eyes drawn to the glint of the moons' light, touching the tops of the ripples in the water, made brighter still by the surrounding darkness.

Shimmering, like magic.

It was cold, perfectly cold, and the air was fresh and open, the kind of night the veil stays so thin into the night and you can almost see just by feeling. When you can feel the serene and endless expanse of the universe. An overwhelming sense of purity and clarity.

Nothing, and everything.

The slight movement of air on the trees and the gentle lapping of water on the bank told us we were safe, for now at least.

We returned to the real through trees and fields, passing streams and reeds along the lakeside.

We were separated. I knew then, I felt it. I was strangely comforted by its sadness.

Peaceful sleep, first for an age.

I woke before dawn clutching a vision. A message so clear it could never be dream. Time passed, finally their eyes caught mine and stared into my soul. Then it was gone, in an instant hidden.

The vision was realised.
 May 2018 Bipasha Dutt
Polar
In the stillness of the dark
I sit,
And outside my window
The night holds many possibilities.
People move within the shadows
Barely visible to the naked eye
Living shadow lives alongside my own.

Do we dream together?
And will love survive death?

I see you
In different times
Living different lives
And myself as a shadow
Living my own shadow life.
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