Aniruddha Pathak Poems

A wrinkled brown leaf
And a dewdrop on the edge,
Hanging on to leaf,
Muse on life ever so brief,
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One, too old to lay eggs— a chicken,
How they eye— wondering as to when,
Expecting me to die
Any time— willing sky,
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Hitting life's golf holes,
Struggling to score vague goals,
Forgot, he'd a soul.
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Man oft is afraid of darkling night,
But it's night that lets him deep insight,
Opens up a rich treasure,
Shows a glimpse of self measure,
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To love in fear is to go reverse gear,
If such be thine love dear, I might well doubt
You love— the twain is no one to one peer,
And pray, make not that pout a beauty's clout.
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Baddies come no bagful all of bad,
Nor goodies always make our heart glad,
World is a mix of picks,
Caresses come with kicks,
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A child when with fewer answers I had,
And more of question on my mind's grey plates,
Mysteries multiplied like a wild fad,
Tell Me Why and How my more loyal mates.
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A lone bush flower
Or bursts— in beds on bower,
Spring packs its power
To come as ever,
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Content we're just with barks of tree,
You, whilst with wealth and money,
Our contentment nevertheless
Nor is more nor yet any less.
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O brave bird Chatak, be firm of mind,
Be thou not to this friend's words blind.
Many a clouds there be in sky,
Not all seem for thee to ply—
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