Incantation Of Yellow!
When God poured all the worldly riches,
That all the deceit and vice dispersed,
He bade nature to smite her yellows,
A color, only he could profusely afford.
Nothing so mellow none so vibrant,
Acolor that could not lie, so honest and bold,
Be it the melting of a heart or the dropp of a tear,
Thus he censures whereever he forgot to put in gold.
Between the canopies see his sun-burnt mirth glow,
In shared light, the healthy play of light and shadow,
To show to its full effect, pushed sorrow into the best shade,
[Do we ever measure it's depth? Griefs all nooks he did raid.
In flowers he dabbled, stolen dawns and sunsets,
So faithful to beauty, they dare be nothing but transitory,
For a day is all they hold their smile,
Yet, brief moments enough to last a lifetime.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Imprinting! !
We are Geese, related to the waterfowl species,
Creatures of shadows &Silences, carried by
the power of a missed heart, That distances can't part,
Asingle glimpse, enough that someone is going somewhere.
That gave reassurance in the midst of empty miles& eerie nights
Flying over cities that have taken so much to build, to soar over heights.
Migrating when Autumn paces the months,
Flying with the horizon, where dreams come out & hunt.,
When the statement of agony became a hymn to a distant vision.
For whose sake anything was worth enduring, a desperate Quest for compassion.
At elevations away from the stench of emotional death.
Adding the distance of years to the distance of miles.
As the sound of water stressed the silence, carrying it into the blue skies.
Foraging on aquatic vegetation, in need of a star to sail by,
No wind carries higher than the storm in their throats that miss the eye,
On webbed short feet &straight bill, sulking perfumed hours
Unspent, with the ones you love, .always return
to where they started, endowed by some kind of cosmic flash
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poem by Seema joglekar
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The Boatman's Crossing!
The boatman is out, crossing the swollen river,
Dips the bamboo staff, churns the frowning waters,
Calling for strength from the still depths, he moves on,
Like children running behind a cart, waves giggle along.
The river asks no questions.
Dark for lies shrouded in curtains of inky black,
Moon just a strained smile, is seized by the clouds crack,
Lovelorn silver edges aglow, puff in pride on the conquest,
Homesick, signaling to each other, stars join in the jest.
The night asks no questions.
Yet to startle darkness, the weakest hour of morn,
Pushing this log of wood, is yet to be born,
Thick as honey, wind flutters leaves in bouts of rage,
Dripping with the scent of hill balsams and lush foliage.
The wind asks no questions.
Heaving branches of blossoms and figs, offer themselves,
In homage to the river, on either banks banyan trees swagger,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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You are the reason
When we meet walking in the dawn of this faraway world
Stars would dropp their vigil over us,
And sunny hours would bare their brilliance,
Like butterflies with newly -unfurled colored wings.
The morning star's same palpitating hush would take a new meaning
With its guiding light, see us to our journey's end
With a twinkle, bless our reunion.
I shall know those dark eyes from which I nurture
Like the living grass and flowers that rejoice in the glance of the sun,
Those eyes whose gaze I could once catch in starless nights,
Its fragrance kept ever fresh through the memory of an earlier quest.
Then, raise my eyes to catch in there
Still lingering some shadow of the other days
Like the fragrance of that forest air that gathered
an enchantment in your presence.
For a moment bear with me if I forget myself.
Be in no hurry, it is for you I wait
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poem by Seema joglekar
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NEW TIMBER vs. OLD TIMBER
On New Timber rain-drenched moss play house, leaf-moulds drift,
Under it’s trysty loafing shade, lust ransacked love & both did embrace,
Gilded wantonness & robed disarray unveiled in shoulders bare,
Solemnized with names etched in the bark, kiss to seal the
betrothal in the dark.
New timber’s uniform surfaces ooze, forest breath caught in it’s knots,
Where in each whiff of coquettish spring, a yearning glance is cast,
Pours sticky resin to contain pockets, with juices that expand & contract
Like the cursing &lamentations, of those fearing despair’s intruding stomp.
To the gang saw’s rip, the fallen log gnarls; curls &splits, a shattering wail,
Forest still resounds in shrieks; bows &warps, congruous with lover’s snarl,
In blood-draining tannin, admits worldly things to break their heart, dismays,
As drains blood in pale cheeks of the revelers, - as they part ways.
Often Old wood dispels a woodsy smell, sawed; of many winters betrays,
Let’s a sigh, , like a bullet report or a sullen whimper, tempts hearts to abide time
In borrowed vigor, faiths pledged, by those that patiently wooed & wept,
In secret dread, plan days ahead, listen to destiny’s faint advancing step.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Why Love?
Nature dazzles the bewitched eye,
With splashing colours of a rainbow -on fire in the copper sky,
With cascading waterfall- flirts a roving butterfly,
With shooting stars banished-to light up the Milky Way,
With a hovering humming bird that belittles the peacock dancing in the rain,
With glowing fire-flies—on their backs hold torch to a visionary dream.
Nature disperses the incense of fragrances,
Of a damasked rose-held together by reckless thorns,
Of coy jasmines-blooming only in the twilight of false dawn,
Of sandalwood limbs-where lie twined the vilest snakes,
Of earthy smells-wrought of dry earth in summer rain,
Of spring flavors—ripped, ooze out in their best form, when treaded upon.
Nature plays tenors to the patient ear on tinsel wings,
In birds calls-mountains echo in the wee hours of the morning,
In a shepherd’s song—thaws to tears the simmering heat,
In whispering trees—shedding leaves in the stillness of the forest,
In pounding waves –shores sing their victory over lost distances,
In pattering rain — from heaven’s lowered eye-lids the foliage bears the bruises.
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Apollo- Muse Of The Golden Mean
[Courtesy; -John Keats-“Ode on a Grecian Urn”—“Beauty is truth, truth is beauty-that is all, Ye know on earth &all ye need to know”.]
Rock outcrops trick a stream to torrent it’s plenty,
In a sweeping gallery you long to see—
The verdure caress sunken hills,
Burgeoning clouds tear the fabulous blue
In sunflowers Clytia cradles drops of dew.
In laurel trees Daphne treasured to forever crown
Kings &victors, here birds end their sojourn.
Humming birds gyrate in a tizzy,
Praying Mantis pause a step on Cassandra’s prophecy.
On it’s silver belly dragonflies preen,
Bees jazz a hopeless tune,
To decide who has stolen from whom,
With the wind, spirits of the forest hold a solemn choir,
Whips of routes squirrels run to map my rapture.
Here throng the gods I search
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Breach Of Innocence-the Road Kill
One sunny noon, while chasing butterflies you &me,
Tried to unravel the mystery of the birds &the bees,
We stopped at some broken wings, lying on the ground, splattered,
Blackish red. To divert your attention I said,
“See! , There goes a butterfly in your favorite color,
Pink petals above your head hover.”
But you didn’t move &stood there
Watching, the first sight of destruction &its dark face.
Asked me where the bird went if it lay at your feet
Tattered like your ragged doll, with no tweet,
Its feathers spread, its face vacant, so still, awake.
You asked me, “If it still lay there within”
“Why it lay there so dirty, muddied.”
“Why doesn’t God clean it up? It’s a poor small bird.”
Questions I have searched answers for an entire life,
Your innocence springs open the Pandora’s Box.
In detail we inspect & see the ants have a galore,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Till You Come!
I will be the gurgling stream,
Surmounting all your hurdles, I shall unwind,
By the head I will drown a hundred sorrows,
And lend you the quiet mind.
I will be a distant star,
On all your sojourns my lights shall burn,
Ask me for whom I shine, for a hundred light years,
And your name, they shall not learn.
I will be the dark night,
Wait till the moon returns every fortnight,
Watch over you with my ten thousand stars,
Till the dawn restores light.
I will be the bird’s call,
In my dawn song sing your praises & promises,
But in none of those ten thousand notes shall fall,
The skip my heart misses.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Beckonings!
Shall I come?
-When the night spills over the threshold of the day
To skim away the pain of the darkest hour.
-Like the loosened strands of pearls, roll into dust
Like glistening dew at dawn, to light our path, come the stars.
Shall I come?
-To pawn the burden of those renegade days
Lying heavy on your eyelids, with the heydays of spring's spell.
-To bid the final day that stood between us
To take her last bow of farewell.
Shall I come?
-Like the proud dew-dropp unsoiled by the dust of life,
Defiant, absorbs to only reflect the beauty rife.
-With the glee of the sapling leaf-burst in the rains,
With sap to defy many a storm, in its gossamer veins.
Shall I come?
-With the mirth of the leaves, in life's joys and pains
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poem by Seema joglekar
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