KS Subramanian1.
Mileposts
Mileposts? I let out a guttural laugh at a
fancy that often jerks me with numbing
pain – almost a scab that surfaces and
ebbs with an antidote.
Mileposts look so similar, also sinister
as if it is a shadow one chases with
nose buried in the sand.
When the winding path leads to a post
it appears a stranger In the distance.
The shadow tantalizingly evades your grasp.
Is it a mirage, delusion or reality?
I would only swallow the query, not digest it;
. 2.
Look back in……amity
Does one count the footsteps when
he has trekked a long way down?
Turning back to see the pot-holed track
is rare for memory covets only the crest.
Passing moments encrypted in mind
like a star, shimmering and yet afar;
Moments for which the heart craves,
mind sings a harmonious tune.
Sublime as the dawn’s breeze or
the twilight’s parting golden wave;
They keep the veins coursing through,
spaciously like a plastic chair,
can embalm your aching back,
nudge a meditative voyage;
I marvel at the buoyant family
of trees defying time with
Unless a mindless arm lounges
To fell its arm, its bounty to wind;
Luxuriant foliage arching
over the vast park fill the silence
with a nourishing, feisty fragrance
needled only by mews of chat
the walkers share; A few share
smiles with me or raise an arm
In greeting; “Resting eh….”
Is the unexpressed friendly
gift of a query.
What they did’nt fathom
was the stream of thought
inside ……”here is Nature’s
unrequited booty…. without
a price tag; A bemused spectator
of the fallible humans who
పెద్దన్న
కృష్ణుడు
శ్రీనివాస్ గౌడ్
కృపాకర్ పోతుల
తిలక్ బొమ్మరాజు
కవనమాలి
స్వాతి కుమారి
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