Tuesday, 17 February 2015


courtesy : google images

Gautam Buddha asked the bereaved mother

To bring Him a handful of mustard seeds

From a household where Death had not entered

Poor mother had gone a begging from door to door

But returned crest fallen and realized the truth

We can’t do away with Death


It has been like this from time immemorial…..


For our time here, like the twilight

Is precious and fading

And while there’s certainty nothing new under the sun-

Under the moon, there is waiting



For Grace’s prompt @ dVerse Poetics : A poem from the future


The last stanza in italics is from Ben Burke’s poem.

Loneliness / Solitude

Surging thoughts

Crash on the stony shores

Of my desolate heart

My bones are fire made

The veins --

Of molten rock

My stormy flesh

Howls and roars

And tears solitude

Into pieces




Thy light of Love

That dwells everywhere

From grains of dust

To the dots of star

Shines and holds my hand

My parched soul

Drinks Thy chalice of Grace

With tears

I cup the Bird of Solitude

To feel Its downs of Peace



Posted for the prompt Loneliness / Solitude @Poetry Jam