DURGA-PUJA#

                             courtesy : google image

The fragrance of Sheuli* tells me

You are coming

The swing of the Kash** plumage tells me

You are coming

The fluffy white sails in the azure firmament tell me

You are coming

The beaming eyes of the poorest of the poor tell me

You are coming

The buzzing of the buyers and the shrewd sellers tell me

You are coming

My heart-beat sings in unison with the Dhaki’s*** drum

Autumn whispers in my ears that You have come

O, Mother live in our heart forever

Let my eyes see your devotees of various faiths

Let all words transform into Hallelujah as my ears take them in

Let my tongue utter your name all day and night

Let my hands touch you in various life forms

Let my soul inhale the peace whispering in each atom

#Durga Puja (Bengali: দুর্গা পূজা [d̪urɡa pudʒa], listen:   listen (help·info), "Worship of Durga"), also referred to as "Festival of Durga") or Sharadotsav is an annual Hindu festival in South Asia that celebrates worship of the Hindu goddess Durga. It refers to all the six days observed as MahaShashthi, Maha Saptami, Maha Ashtami, Maha Nabami and Vijayadashami. Durga Puja festival marks the victory of Goddess Durga over the evil buffalo demon Mahishasura. Thus, Durga Puja festival epitomises the victory of Good over Evil.

*Night-flowering jasmine

**Kans grass

***Drummer

 Posted for Laurie’s prompt Festival @ Poetry jam

                TREES

                              courtesy : google image

You are still the same ancient sage

Epitome of calm forbearance

We thrive on our greed, might and rage

Forgetting our past war we wage

Against you who shows no grievance

You are still the same ancient sage

Blessing us with life as you age

 Harboring us without pretence

We thrive on our greed, might and rage

 Indulge in killing and carnage

Your bounties speak of tolerance

You are still the same ancient sage

Grounded with a verdant visage

We have our brazen insolence

We thrive on our greed, might and rage

We comb your home for horn, plumage

We know silence is your parlance

You are still the same ancient sage

We thrive on our greed, might and rage

Posted for d’Verse Poets Pub where the prompt is Tree

     

    VULTURE

     

                                       Chair With the Wings of a Vulture, 1960, Salvador Dali

 You fly high

But your gaze is on the carcasses

Crush, crunch and chew me

And be pleased with your false aura

That’s no more than some thin sticks

Easily broken and turn to ash

I am neither angry nor feel pain

When you stain your beak with my blood

Your clipped wings can’t take you there

Where I dwell

Delight on the body Black Bird

My soul is tied up elsewhere

                

Posted for Mag 218 @ Magpie Tales

&         

Shared with Open Link Monday @ Real Toads  

   

RING

                                         courtesy : google image

 

The black rings on face

Hiding those long, deep black eyes

What are you up to?

Posted for Haiku Horizons prompt Ring                                    

   

     THUS  SPAKE  LOTUS

                           courtesy : google image

Let my soul be enraptured

By the soothing hue

Of petals opening out

Let the bee and butterfly alight

My language is nectar

I desire to proliferate

I long to embrace every water-hole

To whisper, talk, and sing

Of unity in diversity

Before I fade and wither

Let the lotus bloom

Let the fragrance spread

Posted for Fireblossom’s Mini-Challenge: Flash Fiction 55! @ Real Toads

&

Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

   A DATE

                                photo of swami vivekananda

It was 11^th September 1893 in Chicago

Parliament of World’s Religions opened

Seven thousand thirsty souls had come

To drink the ambrosia

The men on dais were to pour

The thirty year old monk’s* throat dried up

For he never lectured before such audience

He simply kept on delaying

Suddenly there was no one left but he

Who had to deliver the speech

 Which he hadn’t kept ready

It was no child’s play….he had to stand up

And what did he utter?

“Sisters and Brothers of America” and no more

For a two minute standing ovation

And a thunderous applause greeted him

Then in that sonorous baritone he thanked

All present there and completed his small speech

He was known as “the Cyclonic Monk” after that

And turned out as the greatest figure

His life giving words were the Amrita**

People drank in gallons and received bliss

It was another 11^th September

*·  Swami Vivekananda, born Narendra Nath Datta, was an Indian Hindu monk and chief disciple of the 19th-century saint Ramakrishna.Wikipedia, he passed away in 1902 at the age of 39.

Posted for Kerry’s Friday Challenge ~ Vignette  

**Amrita (Sanskrit: अमृत; IAST: amṛta) is a Sanskrit word that literally means "immortality", and is often referred to in texts as nectar. The word's earliest occurrence is in theRigveda, where it is one of several synonyms of "soma" as the drink which confers immortality upon the gods. It is related etymologically to the Greek "ambrosia",^[1] and it carries the same meaning courtesy :  wikipedia

   Unique And Perfect Are Your Dancing Feet

Unique and perfect are your dancing feet

Your eternal beauty captivates all

I don’t know when first did we ever meet

In countless birth my wonder did not pall

I lend my ear to your enchanting voice

Even my wrongs earn your indulgent smile

Your bounty to my fill do I rejoice

And here you are standing there without guile

You always did have a beaming visage

Why are those furrows lining in your brow?

What does the storm through the nostril presage?

Why in the sea tipping is my ship’s prow?

In shine, rain and storm you’ve lived through ages

You do detest outlasting on pages*

*If we are not careful either Nature or mankind will live in books only

Posted for Tony’s prompt @ d’Verse Poets Pub