The God of Unseen Miracles
23:09 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments

The velvet touch of the silken air
On a putrid ochre maple leaf
Lifts it for a waltz to the whistling woods
Amidst the mild perfume of sandalwoods

The frosty midnight breezy air
In the cold thick darkness of the night
With the smell of crackling cedar fed to flames
The canines somewhere playing wishful games

The balmy morning zephyr gently kisses
With the warmth of the peach sunrise
The tinkering chimes which offer a sweet euphony
That slowly fades in the day’s cacophony

A faceless enigma, unseen and ethereal
Yet full of Spirit, bounty with Life
Like Him, who would always be there
To raise us to new heights when engulfed in grief
Caring touches, gentle whispers, when hope dries up like the maple leaf…


Earthy woes
22:40 - Posted by Shilpa K - 0 comments


Tell me why should I save thee asked Her son to Mother Earth
‘Coz my son I’m parched and barren and of minerals there’s a dearth!

Heaps of unattended plastic, and tons of baloney
Clogging rivers that once flowed with milk and honey

Concrete jungles mushrooming having slaughtered verdant landscapes
And poisoned waters coloring the pristine clear lakes

The day isn’t too far when wildlife would be learnt through the encyclopedia
‘Coz who really cares about the endangered species, the flora and the fauna?

It’s a plight- the ripping boundaries that go running crisscross all across me
Scattered bits and pieces of tiny no-man’s-land is all that I see!

The craggy wrinkles on the dry skin of a dying mother ring no alarm
A spit here, a dump there, poaching here, fishing there, what’s the harm?

Although vicissitudes loom large about the future of dilapidated heritage sites
The air still trembles with deafening decibels and piercing flashy neon lights

Undeterred I witness- tremors, storms, eruptions and hurricanes,
My tears like the rains have dried up and my heart has hardened like the rocky terrains

Don’t pave my path to the gallows son; do vouch for my life son‘Coz what would hurt a mother more than being crucified by her own son?