Winter
winter is not death
but a time of peace
resting in the womb
to be seeded again
to be reborn
No those withered flowers
Are not dead, just resting
till the coming of spring
Do not mourn their departure
Fallen leaves, do not mourn
the loss of that flowering tree
Once so Fruitful and vivacious
Now a bare trunk wrapped
in its own entangled branches
its failed aspirations
All those dying desires
bleak eyes devoid of any hope
Is just a momentary blip
It will bloom again
Wait for the right season.
Christmas
Velvety laughters overflowing
with brimming glasses.
Exchanged dreams and aspirations
melting in the mouth like a candy-bar.
Kissing, hugging, welcoming,
then dismissing each other.
Smiles and glances flashing all over
competing with those chasing lights.
People engraved in good wishes
enveloping every corner of the room.
In this annual season of fun and frolic,
when the heart is a lit up Christmas-tree
crowned with the shiniest star
and eternity carefully packed,
lovingly gifted, yours sincerely.
Sipping languidly that joyous gauntlet
why not close the eyes, just for once,
under a mistletoe.
Not yet
Dust to dust
They have not found
Other planet like her
still in a frantic search
They fight and loot each other
This race to power
search of comfort
for Me and me only
because
Me and mine is best
but
Shattered Mother Earth
in shock and wonders,
Where and how
All this human lust will end
What will happen
When
they have drilled her up
For the last drop of its’
remaining resources
Pray, pray, pray
And spare a thought !
Shail Agrawal
