ashok jadhav

My dear love,
Devil in the mind,
Brings evil in the mind,
Because the devil in the mind,
...

My dear, it takes a time,
To become water of the ice,
As setting sun takes a time to rise again.
...

The past was past,
But the present is mine,
What our dream is star like shine,
The curse was called,
...

My dear, you are crystal clear,
Your mind is crystal clear,
And your soul is also clear.
...

When I entered in your minds eyes,
I forgot all my painful worries,
And I remember nothing dear,
And my memories are wiped out,
...

Love is love and love is love,
Whoever in love,
Flies in the sky,
Like that of Eagal,
...

Remember the day when we met,
In my beautiful chamber of gate,
There was peace and silence spread,
Door was shut and comfort zone had different thread,
...

(The speaker stands alone at dusk. A half-packed suitcase lies at his feet. Papers—plans, letters, dreams—are scattered around. He speaks to the silent sky.)
So this was the plan.
This—neatly measured, carefully folded future.
I charted it like a map,
...

When spring returned with tender light,
My heart awoke from silent pain;
Like buds that trust the warming sun,
I dared to hope and dream again.
...

At dawn I saw the farmer rise
Before the village stirred awake;
His roof was straw, his walls were bare,
Yet hope was bread he did not break.
...

I walked alone where the hillside sleeps
Beneath a sky of widening blue;
No human voice, no hurried step,
Only the wind my companion knew.
...

When grief lay heavy on my heart,
I left the town's unceasing cry,
And sought the path where wildflowers grew
Beneath the open, patient sky.
...

I went at dawn where the river bends,
While mist lay thin on meadow ground;
The earth was hushed, yet all alive
With breathing leaves and waking sound.
...

At dawn I walked the winding lane
Where dew lay soft on broken stone,
The fields breathed slow, the sky was pale,
And I was not—yet not alone.
...

Speak
At dawn I walked the winding lane
Where dew lay soft on broken stone,
The fields breathed slow, the sky was pale,
...

I step away from noise and crowded sound,
Where hurried voices blur the shape of thought;
In quiet hours, my truest self is found,
And restless fears grow gentle, slow, and soft.
...

A door held open, just a second more,
A smile that warms the chill of passing days;
Such gestures fall like light upon the floor,
Unnoticed often, yet they gently stay.
...

I sit with time, my hands held open wide,
While hours drift like clouds that will not stay;
The heart grows restless, yet I learn to bide
The quiet space where wanting learns to pray.
...

The morning wore its usual muted grey,
Each hour passed like footsteps in the rain;
My thoughts moved on in an unremarked way,
The heart resigned to ordinary pain.
...

A Single Glance Changing a Day
I walked beneath a sky both gray and wide,
A weight of hours pressing on my chest;
Then came your glance, a spark I could not hide,
...