Hiding behind the scene,
She hoped to remain unseen;
“Private I am and share not my mind.”
Her performance a dream;
Applause heard among scream;
“Private I am and save me my name.”
Who she is, mattered everywhere.
Who she truly is, mattered to none;
“My privacy is precious and I trade not.”
And thoughts conflicted
Between real and realm
In her sacred private space.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Apparently, there’s nothing common
In two people’s lives,
Till situation wipes space and time;
Opportune to movement
I’m here and so are you;
When was the last, where time raced
With little reflection?
Boundaries apart
Preciousness of life
Yet to be realised….
Waiting and waning
“Will I see another New Year?”
Child asked Santa;
Trust never failed.
I continue to read,
Hoping for many
A life of dignity
And some food to eat.
Wonder, if they still know
The taste of potatoes and beans.
There’s nothing common
Yet, I am not different.
Copyright © 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
I didn’t wish to be there
On that day.
But somehow I am here
As of today.
The clouds told the sea;
The wind told the palms.
But the carpet grass rejoiced,
As the shadow stayed poised.
Have I known you, ever?
Every day, newer?
Roots shallow or deep, I gather
We live in today, together.
Said the greens to the woods
As air, water and light witnessed.
Copyright (c) 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Weighed lives.
A few cycles of sun and moon.
Wind tickled nerves
And the dance,
A few tourists acknowledged;
Till the leaf sailed along
And fell on the way
That the cyclists chose;
Wind brushed it aside
While the Yarra river celebrated life.
Copyright (c) 2016 Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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