Cedar | HR Creel
Strong to the core
soft in fragrance
a nestled grove of tender
splinter refinement.
poem on nature
The Kiss | Zarrineh
Oh my Lord,
The eyes always loosen the cord,
Sing the perfect chord,
The love song is clearly heard,
For the record,
When the green light flashes on the board,
Waiting, you can afford,
Kiss without uttering a word,
Universal language of touch,
Expression of love with passion as such,
The kiss, the perfect state of pleasure,
It’s like holding a treasure,
The kiss and its measure,
Easing up the pressure,
The moment those lips have met,
Peace bearing, as a holy writ,
Energizing your body’s every piece and bit,
You realize language is of no use,
The kiss is the pointer you can’t refuse,
The kiss from those sought after lips,
Resurrection of sunken ships,
The heat from the kiss melting the freeze,
Makes you floating like the spring breeze,
Now, this is how you step into Heaven on planet Earth,
Almost experiencing a rebirth.
Earth Quake | Ananya S. Guha
You may not have seen the skies that day as the earth broke into
splinters
you were on earth, in fact down on it, for that is what the safety
valves say, go out out in the open, the stretch of balm, the open,
where the rumbling noise will not disturb. It was 4.38 am, my
nocturnal dreams had halted. So I stealthily came down the stairs, to greet mother earth which was at her trembling best.
I knelt down, not for prayers, but out of fear gripping a wall which seemed as disdainful as the person next to me.
The First Week | Wandering Biku
A solitary pigeon perches on a telegraph pole
And sings her call.
Other than that, the world is quiet.
The constant rush of rubber on tarmac
Has finally ceased.
Gone, the mechanical birds, bees and bugs
Filling the air with their droning busyness.
The warm wind has dropped,
Hushing the rustling.
And even the neighbourhood dogs respect the silence,
Sleeping soundly.
The only noise is that of sunshine
And Nature, exhaling her contentment.
The pigeon starts! and takes to the air.
The Fountain | P.K. Deb
Naturally, the colossal mountain was icy and rocky–
stood beside the slum of the half-fed and half-naked in a desert,
the prayer and the importunity of their hunger and thirst
reverberated in the open air and the sky of infinity,
vibrated even the hard heart of the icy-mountain and at last
succeeded to melt it down to a little fountain for them.
A responsibility geared the fountain to flow down
with water and wealth for the ever-thirsty and hungry
who fidgeted and wept lying on the foot of the mountain,
hence, with a sympathetic fuel it rushed down to the desert.
Still, it sang, made the rock to clap and the fishes to dance,
continued its well destined, brakeless and nap-less journey
till it reached the desert of hunger and thirst of the indigents
and watched their dry faces who ran towards it tumultuously
to immerse their curse of suffering in the water of the fountain.
Alas, suddenly the fountain was surrounded by the pillagers–
the sun, wind, rocks, sands, trees and other suckers
who plunged in to the fountain and snatched the wealth first
and at last, soaked and sucked the water to its last drop
in front of the thirsty and hungry who could not save the fountain
which was a gift to them and only for them to explore and enjoy.
Turtle on Log | Christine Emmert
The first turtle clung to the log
that stretched out over the water.
Seductive sunlight
led another follower to climb behind,
the two shells shining in the day.
Trust that warmth would fill them
in silent communion.
The river rushed by.
They were acknowledged
by poets and angels
and other turtles
who added to their masterpiece.
above, below, beneath, behind, beside | Susan Marie
above
below
beneath
behind
beside
me
your spirit resides
an eternal yearning
met in dreams
and moments
of existential
bliss
with you
there is no
thought
an inherent
knowing
that our spirits
have met
will meet
collide like atoms
in this universe
undiscovered
like lands yet birthed
before the age of man
before languages
were spoken
when nature existed
in her
utter
holy
glory
this is where we met
the wind whispering
through pine trees
the sun loving soil
the rain drenching valleys
when lightning was born
from a solitary
cloudburst
this is how we first met
above
below
beneath
behind
beside
More at http://www.suemarie.info. Hear her poem at https://soundcloud.com/susan-marie/above-below-beneath-behind-beside.