Petals shed from the vase
Layer of bright and grey.
Fresh jasmine garlands on the deity
Perfumed the pale and stale.
A whiff of hot coffee lingered in the air.
“So what?”
Said the bored youngster.
But,
Fragrance or aroma?
Stagnancy or permanency?
The wind changed direction.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
And I stood at a point
Where life asked me to
Take a reverse turn.
Season followed its path
Rains washed clean the reminders
The books were neatly stacked.
Missed from the scene for a while
Met the money plant that loved the sill
The sparrow chirped once again.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
A pile of books fell,
Not because it was organised disorderly;
“A little more” of my expectation
From the rack I brought recently,
But could not sustain a day longer, broke.
Re-living the circumstance presently
“A little space” in my expectation
From existence to purpose lingered seemingly
A pile of me fell off existentialism.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Loving life in myriad colours,
Healing unconditionally…
Life when in doldrums
Serves the unanswered –
Mediate with whom?
Soul or life?
Yet, manipulate not
Birth and death the unanswered….
Time the healer serves unconditionally,
Loving the moment’s myriad of colours.
Copyright© 2015 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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