Kiranjit Singh Bajaj

Bestowed with tools bequeath,
Employ we must till rest,
To traverse life's hideous ways,
Survive the path at best,
...

Time, thou befriend not,
Perched on thy wings,
Thou moveth on,
Sparing no moment for thought,
...

The Greeks take to the streets,
And it's not for a big fat Greek wedding,
The austerity drive to cut them to size,
Painfully has the Euro-zone reeling.
...

Pivoted around the Keeper,
My walk is but limited to the length of the leash,
That forms the radius of the circular domain,
At best I walk its peripheries or inhabit the area within,
...

O soul in a heightened state of house arrest,
The seat of all consciousness and being,
I care not for your immortality or to know your shade outside of me,
Or to argue your disembodied existence,
...

Darkness, thou art the color that life befriends,
Rays of hope tease, ill cast a shadow,
On thy impenetrable perfect black hide,
That could mask the sun.
...

Tenants in the lease of life,
Of a tenure not known,
Riddled with clauses,
A liaison unknown.
...

Seeking a realm in a mirage,
An illusion that seems so real,
The delicate line that tows,
Entangled in a maze.
...

Darknes envelops the sky,
Forming an endless screen,
The mind projects reflections of the day,
We labor in vain to sleep,
...

The erupting volcano offers no pretense,
The sea of molten lava she exudes,
Stretching to sheathe and nurse the abused terrain,
Burying the past, providing a mold for fresh imprints,
...

It's time to remember the past,
And consider the days lost,
In endeavors turned futile,
And take heart from these lessons,
...

Washed ashore,
The receding waves that bore,
Helped me traverse the distance,
Now gently tends me to the shore.
...

I live in the mind, contained,
That dwells at bay,
Beyond the physical realm,
They allege I trigger lust and desire,
...

Please, Mr. Officer, I fail to comprehend,
But how can there be a tax on love?
This is not a sale to attract sales tax or VAT,
Neither do we charge for the service,
...

Pawn at sea,
Whether I flow to a destiny preordained,
Or simply where the river takes me,
Regardless of the path, I need, at best,
...

I run ahead of myself,

From the eternal peace of the mind to the din,
...

Deeply rooted in the soil beneath,
The ornate trunk it holds at best,
Sways to the rhythm of the occasional breeze,
Yet finding solace in the latitude,
...

Thy name is Mercy, yet we feel pain,
Some born to suffer for an embedded past,
Ordained to your decree,
They say nothing can be wrong,
...

Discordant dins that drown peace,
Dyes that soot the blues to darkness,
Yet dusk enwraps us in its care,
Starlit candles tending, nursing,
...

Cast in thy field of life,

'Tis thee who dresseth my soul,
...