“Life is short.”
A statement, she repeated
Three times, expecting an emphasis.
My eyes were trained at the
Common black bird on maple tree
Quiet, unlike its usual chirpy self.
“To be lived and not short.
Here, now and the moment, I live.”
“Why disagree? We are one.” she murmured.
Another common black bird joined in
Together, in silence,
Seemed poised.
I paused my mind; to stillness and tranquility;
Silence embraced my heart and soul.
“In this life….”
2020, Deeya Nambiar
We are, so we care
This one time, care.
Expected often, marked by tumult
Our fate is our destiny, or contrary, to care.
Apocalypse? Phoenix? We know not
Oh! Kind Hearts, care.
Ignorance? ingenuity? State what you may
Our lives on this earth means to care.
Caring, for us, is to each on its own –
I am an animal and a human that care.
As a bird, fish, snake and monkey,
I fly, I swim, I crawl, I walk, and I care.
Existence is primary preference
Life, a gifted necessity; we miss not to care.
Let us be who we are
For, we are, so we care.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
I couldn’t erase the haunting image of
A child trying to wake his
Dead mother.
Dead, from dehydration and exhaustion;
Exhaustion unimaginable, from days,
Days of walking and travelling,
Travelling to return to their homes.
I couldn’t erase the relieved words of
Some other blessed people.
People who said they were grateful,
Grateful for their karma,
Karma of being fortunate to good birth;
Good birth indeed.
Indeed life can mean returning to our roots.
I couldn’t erase my thoughts of
That child who is too young to know;
World in its formative period where,
Love, care, food and play makes sense.
Most of today may be forgotten, and
His cries will remain till memories fade.
May a mother give him a life in a home.
Stories of migrant labourers (India), especially footloose migrants, have been the news stories for sometime now.
I was deliberately avoiding the post of news-based poems though, have been writing a few on the current issues. Today, I thought of sharing my emotions.
2020, Deeya Nambiar
I see,
sea around
Calm to clouds
Water they share
Rains spoke not a word.
Trees fresh green watch
Droplets through spread feathers, black
White dome, a standstill globe
I take control from atop
Rains spoke not word.
Illusions of power and strength
I sense from where I sit tall and proud
That's the universe of acceptance
A little ruffle is simply harmless
I see!
A crow that I am
Free I feel as I fly and perch...
Only a few worried glances at times;
At times, my curiosity gets misrepresented
Irrational as it may sound,
Wonder aloud "why me"often;
Why judge me by tales of good and evil?
Only a few loving eyes glance,
No, they look at me, and I speak,
"Like you, I search my reality."
Copyright © 2018, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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