Sharad Rajimwale

Let me be a drop of water
sitting on the edge of a green leaf
complete in itself- -
well-rounded, transparent
...

Hopes do not grow on trees
Hopes grow on you and me
like blossoms that need
nurturing- - - -
...

The skirt she wore is black
with large pink spots

The pink left its dark country
...

The Rose that swayed
in cool breezes
and wantoned with birds
and butterflies
...

I cut my finger while sharpening the pencil.
I must sharpen it.
They sharpen their daggers and swords
to spill unknown blood.
...

Death sanctifies everything.
Eyes are washed by
hot unshed tears
Hearts are wrung with grief
...

They ruled us by the use of Tea Force
dominating our Palate
and Taste buds,
pushing pure, divine milk aside!
...

Birds hop and twitter

on fragile branches
the way they did years ago,
...

Morning breezes
come stealthily
awakening sleeping buds to a new life
scattering fragrance
...

What keeps our world from collapsing
is this hold your hand has over mine
and my hand holding yours
...

Once words were healers
and I thought all my woes turned into blossoms
under the nectar shower.
Carefully crafted words used to build a radiant
...

I sit on the slope of the bank
and I look at the boat
its half under shivering water
Green weed-filled water fills it
...

I was writing my story,
thinking, I could give it the shape I desired
the twists were fascinating
and the turns mind-boggling!
...

Let my cup be empty
What shall I do with a vessel brimming over?
There is room in it for more.
Empty spaces resound in names
...

I touch the toys that you left on the shelves
and forgot
before leaving home.
They are still there and I run my fingers over them
...

Who can drain the blue from the sky
and the brilliance from its boundless freedom
and freedom from the life of the spirit?
...

What are you looking at
sitting by the grassy marge
with eyes that have lost their lustre?
(Eyes which you cleverly used to make and unmake so many worlds) .
...

One by one the books left my library
leaping over hedges and making way
through shrubberies
swimming across water
...

My song dwells in the breath of the morning angels
My notes arise in the golden rays that emanate from the east
Spread your hair and let the winds dally with the perfume
that is liberated in all the four corners of the world
...

In the vast, shadowy corridors of the quiet library echo
the muffled footfalls of unknown steps.

Some remote shaft of light
...