Simple
Sojourn of a Solitary Soul
Sudha
is life-partner of good friend ( an ex-colleague ) Girish Trivedi
Following
is her unique way to imagine what my soul might have felt while penning the
poems in my book “RIPPLES “
Sudha
,
Thanks
for taking me on this journey down the Memory Lane ( - which, I was always
afraid to take ! )
Thanks
for bringing into my life, a ray of hope – and a new sense of purpose
Many
a friend and family member, have “ appreciated “ my poems
Some
more who click below ( bold ), might like these
You
are the only one who have “ empathized “
- Hemenbhai
===================================================
Rode
on ripples as an eternal quest
of joy. Enjoyed waves, waters and winds.
With
setting of springs and songs of cuckoo,
a mighty foe
of mankind lurked beneath. Soon thorny headed evil roared like Niagara.
Tides of time hid the shadows and
laid their misty icy hands making every heart weary.
Covid
! now you are here
in the dark valleys,
slums and multiplexes. Every home is a lonely
cloud.
But
media tells us :
we are so near -
so far. Is the disease destroyer's
master joke
?
Or
His certain joy
without a
purpose ?
People
are dying like autumn leaves.
The gravedigger of
JFK is tired. Gone are voids of spaces.
Lack of lilacs
on mass graves.
Who will
cry
? Who will whisper sayonara
?
Omnipresent
death is dancing and unlocking the
gates of everlasting premonition.
Hour glass is tilted. Even sphinx
is stunned
Shadow
of misery stalks showing
scars and haunts
from Coral Isles
to Kanyakumari,
from Anand to Urbana, from Powai to Lawrence.
Man is a commodity now.
Disease
is the master of
ceremony, claiming I have no form
but variants.
Western wind blows on this ancient world.
Rays of hope are peeping on the shore of ever changing
truth.
Instead
the Tik20
like, bottles of vaccine move round and round.
After
all, the monster is not here forever.
Darkness of
night
will
vanish. Human race will be breathing again beneath the sun
, singing the song
of love and life.
Corona
is not forever.
It may be the last storm.
Life
will again be an everlasting
picnic.
Only you- the creator of cosmos shall
bring ambrosia of health to mother earth. She will rejoice- I am free.
Tomorrow is new year
day - 2 0 2 1. As a pillion rider
of Girish I send my pranam and regards to you and Bharatiben.
Sudha
31
Dec 2020
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