The Eternity

Full of leaves  green
 no space in between
the hibiscus plant as seen
looks gorgeous with a gleam.
It  is in full bloom
 the flowers red  in groom
blossom with a liveliness
being so many and in a dense
They are dark and deep
grow they in heaps
being uncountable as they are
seem to be tender in a flair .
The red and green modulation
  present  a fascination
 both not soft in their décor
 very strong to the letter.
One fine morning to a shock
could it be one in a stock
 the leaves have fallen
 lay there trodden.
Being absolutely bare
 as if ripped off by a tear
 the plant looks desperate
being in a withered state.
The red and green solidarity
expose  now a disparity
a bubbling enthusiasm felt
turns disenchanted under the belt.
The transitory deals of the day
be it in any transactions in play
reveal the impermanence subtly
both in nature and in life invariably .

A Bud Flowers And Dies

I saw a small bud in the morning,

it was fresh and feeble,

it was so beautiful.


I walked out in the late morning,

It was still the same,

It was dainty and frail.


I peeped out in the afternoon,

It looked more or less the same,

Though slightly bigger than in the morn.


I made it again in the late afternoon,

It was there remarkable as ever,

It danced charming in the breeze.


I advanced towards it in the evening,

It had opened up elaborately,

Spreading its fragrance all over.


I rushed towards it the next morning,

Its petals looked withered,

It was drooping  in a fold.


I retreated with a heavy heart,

Capitulating the growth in a day,

Finally reconciling to death also in a day.

Actions Creation Nature Transitory Wisdom

It Is Transitory

Leaves bloom in a lovely green hue,

Thick and dense in a clasping cue,

Spreading a canopy of shade ,

Providing a glittering like jade,

Only to fall in days few.



The rain fed rivers flow gently,

Through the pebbles and moss gracefully,

Carrying with them  alluvial soil  across

Enriching the fields as they cross,

Only to get into the ocean mildly.



Man lives with pomp and merry,

Arrogant and towering over all in glory,

Dictating terms to everyone with  serpentine authority,

Destroying one and all with diabolical  impetuosity

Only to get interred in dust shortly

It is as explicit as ever,

That which is born cannot live forever,

That which takes place will   fade

Be it beautiful or ugly,good or bad,

All would drop down in  a wither.

Creation subscriptions thoughts turmoil

A Blow ,A Strike, A Fall

Heard a smashing noise ,

A violent slash  it was,

Thud ,thud it sounded,

Lo , there was a bang,

A loud squeak emanated,

A sharp shriek was heard,

There was a blast,

A fall ,a collapse resulted,

The beautiful tree came down,

It tumbled flat on the ground,

A sordid sight indeed!

A ghastly scenario  really!

A terrible blow truly!

A vicious strike exactly!

Finally a miserable fall absolute.



That which stood royal an hour ago,

Lies down biting the dust  poorly now,

That which yielded fruits and nuts,

Is a mound of rubbish  at present,

That which gave shade and strength,

Relays  a  heap of broken twigs  now,

That which was a cynosure to all eyes,

Seems like an eyesore now,

That which was a thing of beauty,

Looks like an empty distraction now,

Illustrating  the transitoriness,

Underlining the fleeting  of life,

Denoting the impermanence,

 Yes, anything born has to die.  





subscriptions thoughts

The Dew

Moisture sets in the night,

Cooling the  spaces light ,

Condensing and accumulating bright,

Over the lawns, cars  and flowers overnight.

The pearl like dew  sparkles ,

Like   opague crystals,

Dancing to the whistles ,

Of the early dawn  fills.

The droplet over a  petal red,

Is a sensational thread,

Leaving us in a spell-bound led,

Capturing  the thoughts in a stead.

The fixation is laden with enthusiasm,

As it  holds a  lot of realism,

Bringing to light the geniality of altruism,

Which  falls hard on the existing scepticism.

Dew  reflects the state of impermanence,

In a cryptic  bubbling brief  reference,

We , mortals, fail to comprehend the insurgence,

That reigns supreme over  our feigned innocence.

Dew  drops disappear in the  late morn,

They fades away like a timid fawn,

Man  too is a  distinct born,

Destined to pass away in the forlorn.