Tag Archives: Winter

Snowblind

Hollow eyes

see the snow drift

slowly drifting;

their vacant stare

no longer dares

read a history etched

on withered parchment

as the snow drifts

slowly over them;

hollow and bleak

the day’s remains

remain abandoned

till Winter comes to

take them away;

watched by hollow eyes

watching the snow drift

drifting slowly;

our existential cries

muffled

in the suffocating

sclerotic

snow-caped

landscape,

where Winter has buried them

all.

 

December A Bumper

Winter, the special guest

Makes December a bumper

Hazy wings of breeze

Welcome snow fairies

Merry go around.

Tress shivered, leaves shed.

Buds hibernated in petals sweater

Birds are silent in tranquil valley.

Frozen rivers turned tantalising stages

for ice skaters to have ballet of season.

Nights are cold but stars are bright

The chilly air sings jingles

For Christmas is on the way

Santa Claus is on its reindeer

Christmas carol heard everywhere.

Chocolate cheese cake is baked

And ready on the dining table

While lying on my cosy couch

I wait, I wait and I miss

the warmth of my beloved

like some hidden sunrays

beneath a winter coat.

 

© Maaya Dev 2015 Dec

The Robin Bird Of The Early Spring

With wimpling wings,
while winking its eyes to weep,
in the downing dawn’s blue ink
of the springing spring,
and while swirling from the nature’s swing
to sway, or to rock
the night’s ring,
and to reach out without fallin’,
it leaves the garden forthwith,
right in the light to fight
the last winter’s wind.

Poem by Marieta Marieta

If you were a spring without flowers,
probably then all my trees
would be lethargic.
If you were a wind coiling without leaves,
possibly all my trees would be already fallen,
and if you were a sky without its sun,
certainly no other tree could
germinate to grow from seed.
And I would not be able to exist any longer,
for I am the forest.
But in the snowy winter that would follow,
and in the churches with empty bells,
not ringing in the frost,
God would be still existent.
But you were my springing spring,
my whispering leafing wind
and my sunny sky.
And, in the winter,
in your absence,
I did not cease to love you while
craving for the melted snow,
craving for the blossomed trees,
craving for the ringing bells…

© copyright Marieta Maglas

Life Under the Moon

monsoon’s end
patches of emptiness
on the evening moon

sun bath
an eagle circles
the day moon

harvest moon
a path of lantern traffic
to the farm hill

harvest moon
taproot of a carrot
shows up red

full moon –
winter’s stillness
in a soap bubble

holding on
with what she left behind
winter moon

Winter

winter dawn
a patch of clouds
blossom a bare tree

holding on
with what she left behind
winter moon

winter rain
the urge to feel
the newborn

full moon
winter’s stillness
in a soap bubble

uphill walking
she takes me into
winter clouds

winter deepens . . .
lungi shivering on
the beggar’s face

on the rock . . .
the descent of water ends
winter’s loneliness

winter twilight
homing mynahs
over my backstroke

The Bear and Her Cubs

Winter has returned

and with it the migrating

Bear and her eager Cubs ,

their old habitat deserted

the Forest and Wild ,

not so plentiful of

natural prey as once was ;

They are hungrier this year

the Bear and her Cubs ,

the Freeze now starts earlier ,

there is less time for

the Bear to feed ;

Others too feel the

harsh old Sun ,

spending longer hours

tracking the same

meagre morsels ;

Urged on by whetted appetite ,

they go searching ,

searching ,

searching nearer ,

nearer to the town ,

the migrating Bear

and her eager Cubs ;

Winter has returned .