Meenas PoemsThe little red robin
is calling me in
I am going to go in
see what is happening in
as there is lot of din
that keeps going on
for a long time on
the fellow red robins have gone
only a few be there on
yet the noise is going on
with a great follow on
rushing in to see what is going on
found a team of bird there on
circling round a new born. 
The new-born cries
seeing the world perhaps
knowing fully well of the corruption
understanding the greed
counting the scathing remarks
noticing all things done improperly
The baby would cry even more
and hope it would not stop
if it sees the other atrocities
that rule the world blasphemous
sealing it to a devastation.
The world still moves on.
There was a sunrise in the morn.
There are many new-born.
The horses neigh in the barn.
The birds sing in the dawn.
The earth revolves around.
There is a lot of sound.
People walk around.
There seems to be no bound.
As all things are in order in the ground.
There is no sign of devastation.
Not even a specific exasperation.
It is but a regular situation
where there is liveliness in elaboration.
Easing out all tensions in a quick invigoration
Woke up in the morn,
to the tune of a song.
The sun mirthfully shone,
amidst the gleeful throng.
There was a mild sound,
which came along.
That expressed in a lovely tone,
an arrival of a new-born.
Crying in full throat,
the babe made the entry.
Alerting everyone with a short
sharp notes similar to a sentry.
Revitalising the surrounding
with a charming frenzy.
That brought out aloud,
the arrival of the new-born.
The anticipation turned out
to a passionate excitement.
The anxiety converted itself
into a delightful predicament.
There arose a tranquillity
embedded in peace and contentment.
That delivered in all serenity,
the arrival of the new-born.
Meenas Poems 