Thursday, January 19, 2017


Image result for smoke rings poem
pic from google***

Under the rush of stars
 Often intangible thoughts  
start with an issue, 
A tear falls..., with it
    An ache twists somewhere.
O my heart!
          The whispers of memories
Rise like rings from a smoker’s lips
The fleeting rings enter the mind,
In effortless unison, fill the vision.
-an empty chair
-the little side table 
-the bare window draped with Mom’s raw-silk saree…

The images within me unite, clash and clang
     Weave skeins of many beautiful legends;
These are pearls of my treasure.
A realisation:
Life is too rich to waste.
Once learned,
the journey is easier every time.