inner voice



Continuance perusal on the terrace at the oldest eucalyptus tree in the yard,
giving me the gaze of immortality.
Getting a whiff of petrichor,
trying to touch the spell,the raindrops,the fine breeze of air tranquilizing my heart and soul.
This time the orchard looks elated,
with the chirping of birds.
Leaves are getting estranged
from the mother tree.
Are the rest of them mourning for this alienation?
The birches are swinging, look as though one is melancholic for their lost foliage.
Tears flow from up in the skies, rest lingering leaves touched by the solicitude
of the heavens.
And by now everyone is silent.
Manisha Charak


Early Morning


It is the time at 5 O’clock,
The people go on long long walk.
How cool and pleasing is morning air!
As if someone is singing on lyre.
Chirping and twittering of birds is enthralling one,
Who can compete them else but none.
The rustling of leaves on tall tall trees,
On rippling water swim swans and geese.
The fragrance of flowers all around,
The oriole giving a fascinating sound.
Far flung meadows and the green grass,
Moments of nature we gaily pass.
Fields, clouds and the rainfall,
Nature is calling us each and all.
Each daffodil, marigold rose seem to me,
Waving their heads wonderful to see.
The murmuring of water in streams and seas,
The blossoms look charming on shady trees.
Nature’s call is at peak O! koul,
To enjoy nature is only your goal.
Ashok Koul Ratnipuri




When I look up in the sky,
I see a few stars. They twinkle like diamonds,
Whether they are near or far.
I long to touch the stars,
In the dark night sky. Twinkling beside the moon,
In the dark, summer night. Next is the big circle,
That changes shape. It is the moon,
That keeps me awake. Some say moon is a ball of cheese,
Some see bunnies hopping around in glee.
Some say moon is the earth’s satellite,
Some say moon is very bright.
Next is the soufflé of clouds,
That is grey as mice. Just look above your roof,
You will feel mesmerized. Clouds are so deep,
Whether rainy, black clouds,
Or the ones that sweep, Clouds,
so many, moving in the sky like a crowd. Next, the black sky,
Fulfilling the wishes of thy. The black patch uncovered,
By the soufflé of clouds. Every star,
that surrounds thy Is barely visible,
it’s so high! You are like an apron,
Filled with clouds and stars.
The moon makes a design,
But sometimes it hides
The night sky is full of might
The pitch darkness means its night
The apron with filthy stains
But clears off when washed by rain.