Stood below a banyan tree in the vicinity
On a cloudy night where lightning flickered
I envisaged the lighting across the street
Adorned to welcome the festival of light
And the wail of the newborn shrilled the air.
The roots set to bond deep
Through tap roots and prop roots
Offering to nourish and nurture
Nature leads and instincts act
And a mother is born.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Moving clouds chased each other
Orange ignited firmament
A mirage of golden chariot;
Sun remained hidden.
On an expectant full-moon night
The breezy evening light
Leaving inhibitions on the shore
I dig my feet into the sand
Writing the words of hope in anticipation;
The distant roar of the tides
I hear with a shudder but
The waves come calmly –
Collective messenger in manifestation;
Gathering words, rinsing feet and
Depositing strange travellers
Living and dead to hope in anticipation;
The spreads of blue with no distinct line
Past, present and future a transcendental straight line
I devour spontaneity
Layers of washed sand visuals
The mystic sea, resplendent.
Inquisitive eyes searched
Listening to the roaring waves;
The unheard voices….
A celebration on a cold night
Friends, food and fun;
The renewed ties….
Caught us unaware
The warmth of the land suddenly strained;
The fury unleashed….
The sand and the weeds mysteriously disappeared
And the sea returned to claim its property;
The enigmatic space….
The wanderer in us turned pensive
Wading through the water;
A lifetime’s promise….
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