A dusty window screamed in yearning;
Hesitant fingers moved through eons
of
closed heart, affable cravings.
Barren land roared back unfamiliar gales.
Textured walls here seemed laughing,
Textured with routine; roaring laughs,
Laughing, showing fangs of loneliness,
I shudder at my too-familiar belongings.
Some nostalgic dreams haunted mornings;
Serpentine gods crushed ancestral earnings,
Wisdom, coziness, familiar grounds lost,
I dabbled in new pastures, for subsistence.
A window here opened virtual realities,
Books throbbed with surging thoughts,
My days counted comments from across,
Yet dry red news daily, devil’s presence.
My table housed gluttonous bills,
lone tea cup and escalating time.
Clock ticked fast, raising heart beats
Up up and up, inevitable chores grinned.
I peeped long on to dusty window
An oasis seemed to be near, or far?
Trees, their shadows and sunny beams,
Hugged each other tight, I beamed.
Come dear, let us go that far, the oasis:
It’s there, a green patch of hope, oasis!
Let us sow the seeds, in hope and stray
a little, from inevitable to essentials.
Sometimes looking through a window can change one's entire perspective...
ReplyDeleteInteresting to think about what is inevitable and what is essential in life....and how to get to the oasis that one seeks. I enjoyed this!
ReplyDeletegotta love those green patches of hope...love the pastoral wisdom in your close...I dabbled in new pastures, for subsistence. ...i have been there...smiles.
ReplyDeleteAh...hope, yes, always hope. Lovely thoughts and poem Sreeja :)
ReplyDeletesowing the seeds in hope...love this...the green patch..the oasis..the place where we find our breath again...oh we all need it..
ReplyDeleteI find it interesting to personify objects such as the windows, the books. It makes one look at things differently.
ReplyDeleteI loved the scenic beauties you described here ... amazing !!!
ReplyDeletethe last stanza is beautiful, You poetry has an innate power, Sreeja!
ReplyDelete