There is a place


There is a place

Where sand rushes out  with the waves

trying to pry shells which cling to wet feet.

Where coconuts shells become brass vessels

to cook a feast over an imaginary fire.

Where palm tree shadows bend to merge

with the patterns that sun and sand create.

Where the wind whispers mischievous secrets

that delight the soul in idyllic solitude.

Where notes come floating unheard yet tender

as if frivolously flirting with a lyrical gale.

Where time moves with the lassitude of summer

making bells forget  their rings and resonance.

Where  billowing clouds impersonate  buried desires

 filling in the thirsty gaps with tremulous drops.

Where the greens and the blues blur effortlessly,

never needing to define the melting palette.

Or
to name the place or remember the date

Or
to unearth a purpose for living in that speck of time.

There is a place in every space

If you can look softly enough
© Reena Prasad
Published in the anthology Musings- a mosaic

The isle within


The isle within

 

Walls replete with sonnets you cannot read
I use invisible ink
in places where poetry is not meant to be.
Writing ballads
in the brooding shadows of autumn’s moon
using fire-flies to lighten heavy couplets.
Writing odes in the pitch darkness
of unrequited love
on the frosted panes
of wintry wine glasses .
Feigning languid disinterest
so you wouldn’t be obliged to see
the unbearable surrender in
the haikus of my euphonious silence,
using your loss as free license
for climbing rhyme vines.
Punctuation and meter often misplaced
in the farrago of heaped pain.
Though my pen and its flowing juices
are my nepenthe, my salvaged flotsam;
I see elegies when dreams are earthed.
Darkness lends character and colors
to lyrics too pale to withstand sun shine.
I want so badly to write about the rose
yet it always turns to “rue” and “woes”.
A time stolen, a space pristine
I carry them with me to prevent
dislodgement of my cornerstones
and life from turning into
another Sisyphean tale.
An alibi for my frequent,
imperceptible absences from life
A testimony to my inner tankas of hope
My hidden growlery in this world
of cyber- tinged butterflies.
My island of blank verse
©Reena Prasad

♥Published thanks to Rukhaya M.K

The vanishing flower


Image Source Page: http://www.artdevon.com/artists/susan_elizabeth_ash

The vanishing flower

Ruby red, her petals spread,
She blooms alone in the virgin glade
Five tongue -shaped beauties come alive
to protect the glittery dust inside.

 

Yesterday too, I passed this way,
No leaf moved, no wind blew.
The grassy dell lay mischievously still
hiding in their blades this elusive jewel.

 

Kissed by butterflies with kohl-rimmed eyes,
she stops my tracks as I stray
into these woods for a breath of life
Charming my soul with her divine play.

 

Her stem stood proudly upright
holding aloft the ruby crown.
Heart shaped leaves gently fluttered
A queen’s demeanor, nectar of delight.

 

Night has sprinkled her tear drops few.
Quivering on the petals, the lovely dew
gently showers on my feather touch
Gone are the pearls, to my deep regret.

 

Curiosity took me for a walk
to discover more beauties in my path.
Finding none to match, I soon returned
Only to find my flower gone!

 

Why did I stray, where did she go?
Her glittery dust covers the ground.
Eaten by a goat or plucked by a hand
A mystery – here no souls abound.

 

A creation of my deprived imagination or
a mental masterpiece to fill a visual vacuum.
In these deep woods, I somehow know
she bloomed the other day for my eyes alone!

Melancholy


Can’t stop them from falling
Though I tried with my sodden sleeve
Catching the drops left ,right and below
yet nothing seems to stem the flow. 

Traitors, you drain my heart
plundering the meager store of hope,
Are you waiting till the smiling faces go
for melancholy to fill the black potholes? 

Friends wave goodbye, I drown in my lie,
a water-logged smile camouflaging my sigh.
Dragging the boulders, bound to my hopes,
I close the windows for it will rain tonight.  

Where did I once sow Sorrow’s hidden seeds?
They feed upon my tiniest joys with abandoned glee.
Their tiny tendrils are now grief’s wild weeds,
entangled in my veins like salt in the sea.
 ©Reena  Prasad

It came dashing


It came dashing
round the corner of the street,
gliding effortlessly over the cacti fence,
entering into the chaotic traffic with ease.
One among thousands like it,
yet distinct in its path and chime,
carrying fragrances and images.
Sepia versions of truth and time
beating out persistent, haphazard rhymes.
Muscling frail, dutiful ones out of its way
with its tsunamic , sweeping sway.
Loud honking failed to divert its track.
It punched me before I had time to act.
Determined it was, like an adamant child,
clinging relentlessly to the fabric of the mind.
Though I tried hard to shake it off,
in vain like a cheetah licking away its spots,
it reversed the tables and shook me hard
right down to my very soul, leaving its scar.
It was an orphaned, homeless thought
that the breeze bore upon its feisty cart
entering my heart, unbidden, unsought.

I am the lone dry leaf….


I am the lone dry leaf
Sticking to your cheek
I am the gust of friendly breeze
Playing hide and seek.
I am the mellow sun shine
Warming you when the days are cold
I am the cool rain, drizzling youth
as the heart grows old.

 

I am the goodness of your heart.
I am the love that sets you apart.
I am the joy, I am the pain.
I am the prayer that echoes again.
I am the rustle that makes you look around when you are alone.
I am the silence that descends when the birds have flown.
I am the murmur of the bustling crowd.
I am the call of duty ,clear and loud.

 

I am the song of the elusive thrush
I am the colour of adrenaline’s rush.
I am the tune that plays constantly in your head
I am the whiff of caution, stopping you with signals red.
I am the faint touch upon your bare arm.
I am the baby gurgle that disarms.
I am the dream that wakes you up .
I am the lullaby soothing you in bed.

 

 

I am the shadow that follows in your stead.
I am the mirage luring you ahead.
I am the breath that you catch after your run.
I am the chuckle that resonates in moments of fun.
I am the scent of the flowers you stop to inhale.
I am the whisper of the hills going round the dale.
I am the whoops of childhood glee.
I am the shade of the courtyard mango tree.

 

I am your spirit whom you never see,
yet bound to you for eternity.
I am your own soul, forever free.
————————————————————

Moments


A skip and a jump and childhood went on its way
Leaving me hoping one day it would again come for a stay.
Holding hands without guilt ,making friends in a flash
Caution never intruded , when puddles beckoned for a splash.

 

When the days roll down memory hill,
sweet laughter echoes in the dale
Giving ample space for the soul
to refill the cup of adolescent travails.

 

Walking behind so that you wouldn’t sneak a peek
at love’s blush staining the dimpled cheeks.
Walking in hope, fingers crossed in prayer,
for a glimpse of your face or your tousled hair.

 

Hoping you would come , praying we would be together
And not finding the courage , instead talking about the weather.
Moving away ,leaving too much space,
then missing you frantically with undue haste.

 

While eyes remain locked and throbbing pulses raced,
Silence and togetherness forever embraced.
Counting the minutes, marking the days
Now counting the years and decades while you are away.

 

Give me back a few leaves,
that swirled in rounds at our playground.
Give me back the wooden bench,
on which you were once to be found.

 

Give me back stolen moments old.
Give me my beating heart again.
Give me back my secret crush, your first touch
and our adieu in the rain.
—————————————————-

Mother beautiful


As she turned round and round
The folds of dazzling silk fell into place
Perfectly draped upon her shapely waist
And with pins between her teeth, she made sure
The brocade rested securely over her fragile shoulders.

 

A ritual engraved into my childhood mornings
Like the hearty breakfast before school
Watching her choose between crimson and cream
Marvelled my little girl-eyes , at how easily her mother coped
Twisting six yards of heavy cloth , ending up as a goddess’s dream.

 

Divinity embedded , her red bindi flashed
With happiness as she embraced her motherly tasks
I looked at the old calendar picturing the deities
Pure, glossy ,radiant and gold covered maybe
But merely pale shadows of my mother in her sari.

——————————————————————

Tread softly


9th DECEMBER, 2010

Tread softly
You step on a fragile heart
Trampled under love’s weight
A collage of drained promises, mangled by fate. 

Tread softly
These broken pieces are concealed awls.
Piercing through aberrant emotions
If crushed by heavy footfalls. 

Tread softly
For the shriveled soul may yet bleed
Unable to bear the familiar throes
Of unsynchronized love beats. 

Tread softly
Mindful of the besotted love shards
As the still smoldering embers
emit their final dying sparks. 

Tread softly
Silent lyrics float unrestrained
Oblivious to the reverberating echoes
Let hope linger in blissful ignorance again. 

Tread softly
Treacherous mires cover the earth
Subtle desire seeps into subdued hearts
When Love fights for a rebirth.

©Reena Prasad  Published in LOVE IN VERSES

Soul search


October 20, 2010

Thoughts twirl around like scattered leaves in a storm
Sunbeams stream into monotonous corners of the mind
Lighting up dark recesses, freeing little elves of doubt
Memories awaken, no longer content to remain in cramped boxes of caution.
Little streams make their way, into the confederation of rivers of reason.
The breeze clears up some mists of uncertainties, of changing seasons
Unspoken words tumble out of falling bundles stored
in overstuffed cupboards of insecurities.

 

Yet the sunshine fails to penetrate, the rooms where fears lie
Where hopes vie with despair
desperately clawing to keep afloat.
Where unheard whispers fly like bats, cocooned
in the darkness of nights unslept
Where loneliness creates images to which memories cling.
Where the mere shadow of daybreak shatters all illusions.
Never finding the myriad colours of life, hidden under a blanket of dead leaves.

©Reena Prasad 20th oct 2010