Author Archives: Alok Mishra

About Alok Mishra

Born in India in 1981, Alok Mishra is a teacher and an award winning poet. He has had a keen interest in writing poems since a very young age. His poems have been published in various journals and websites in several countries. He loves to write spiritual and romantic poems.

A Star

A Star

Having lost my path at dark night,
I searched for a star bright
In the vast welkin in cloudy attire
With drizzling eyes and emotional desire.

Trudging around with craving cries
And saddening memories of silent sighs
That had sunk into the gloomy ocean,
I sought a star with a weeping emotion.

Came the soothing soft eastern air;
Floating away the clouds, it made the sky clear;
A twinkling star to my somber soul,
Spreading shimmer showed the universe whole.

©® Alok Mishra, 2017

Enchanting Smile

Enchanting Smile
“““““““““““““““““`
Like a lotus-bud, ready to be beautiful bloom,
Your pink soft lips as if a divine boon,
Spreading the fragrant and sweet juice,
With an enchanting smile to my conscience induce.

All around sprinkling the elixir of smile,
Your scarlet cheeks colours the horizon while
Your intense gaze fixes on mine,
Forgetting all, I submerge myself into the love divine.

@ Alok Mishra

Journey To The Whole

Journey To The Whole

Having awaken from long hibernation,
I ran
Towards
An invisible image.
A band of seekers,
Thirsty of divine nectar;
Drenched in the holy shower;
Having not any sense
Of being animate,
Was after my shadow.
I danced,
Making harmony
With the rhythm of the drums,
Being beaten by the men fulfilled;
As a nymph
Being mesmerized,
In heaven,
Dances in the tone of
Apollo’s lyre.
The leaves of the pines,
Around the high mountain,
In jocund,
Embraced the breeze;
As a bevy of beauties,
Swaying their hips,
Caress their lovers
In great glee.
The sun, like a groom,
Brought a golden stole,
And covered the mountain shyly,
As if his newly wed bride;
Shining her limbs
With the golden, warm and healing attire,
No more cold was there now.
Through the golden path
My bare feet passed;
And took me to pinnacle;
From where,
None could be seen in the earth.
The unlimited power
Extended me
Incessant shower.
I soaked myself
With the velvety touch.
For a moment
I forgot myself;
I had no sense
To perceive
His carnal presence.
A whispering voice
Of my heart
Silently
Gave me a part
Of information of the whole.

Fruitful Journey

Spreading the strong wings
The gulls are gliding high
Over the vast ocean
Whose furrow – like waves
Are playing
With the golden rays of the sun.

No storm violent
Can break
Their fruitful journey;
No turmoil of the waters
Can be hindrance
On their golden path.

Enchantment
Of illusive and ephemeral ships
Cannot compel them
To repose
For a while;
As they have taken
A firm resolution
In their hearts
To decline their invitations.

With unshakable faith
To cross the attractive ocean,
Sooner or later,
The gulls are heading,
Keeping in their eye – balls
One point only
In the horizon,
Where the immense sky kisses
The gilded waves of the ocean.

O White Moon

O white moon!
Give me some whiteness,
Black clouds surround me.
I cannot see your beauty,
But it is my firm belief
That behind these clouds
You are present.

My tears are not obeying their master
And coming out of their caves.
These tears are testimony
Of my true love for you.

When will the day come
When your sparkling rays touch my trembling heart?
When will your mercy shower
Fall upon my immortal point?
When will your white face
Be before my black eyes?
When will your innumerable ministers
Decide my doings?

O LORD!
You are my king,
But what an unfortunate creature I am
That I am blind to you.

Alok Mishra.

Divine Robe

O weaver!
Weave a robe for me,
Embroidering with the stars,
Shining with the golden rays
Of the sun,
Coming from my monarch’s palace.

Whiteness of the silvery clouds
Be spread all around;
You have no bound;
Yield it a princely grace
That I may found
A gorgeous space
In the heart kind
Of my Lord.

Place on it elegant cone-bearing trees
That render a message
To go straight
Without entangling
In attractive and ephemeral bushes.

Icy surface with lotus-pink,
Blending of red and white
Will reach my robe
The peak of purity.

The velvety and soothing robe
Will give me deliverance
From my old garments
That are piercing my innocence
With thorny attraction.

I will wear the beautiful robe
And go to my master’s room;
Will sit under his shadow
Forever.

ALOK MISHRA.