CASCADE

 Waterfall cascading down the mountains

that image settles my brewing thoughts

gels my agitated nerves.

A sense of tranquillity clothes me 

 all setbacks magnified in my perception

seem dissolved and flowing down

like the water descending the peak.

I feel light to intrude back into mundaneness

having sneaked out to refresh my soul.

I love the huskiness of the word  

cascade, whenever it escapes my throat 

the euphony and the sketch it forms. 

Dwelling in desert area for over a decade

my vacations materialise cascade to reality

The milky waterfall gushing down  effortlessly 

cleanses all impurities and merges into river below.

Stripped of the epidermis of  ego and anger I cascade 

rejuvenated to paint the canvas of life.

SHUSH

The sun kissed  petals 

drenched in the moist dew

bring a smile on my lips.

Little chirping birds peck a petal

chew and fling it away.

The other friendly petals shed  tears

 in stifled silence having lost a friend.

The rest wither by evening 

droop and fall scattered on the ground.

A few stuck to my shoe appeal to

incessant whispers in my head to hush

and murmur, revel each moment before

our shrivelled body lies adorned

with garland of petals.

RADIANCE

The red striped cushion beckons the sunlight to settle

I caress the warm spot on  cold winter mornings

With coffee mugs in hand, we sip 

fondly gazing at the light of our lives 

cosily resting on the cot.

My little light is all of twenty-three now

miles away  immersed in her own world

Both of us relishing the rays  at varying times

Dotingly remember her excited conversations

on effect of  degrees of sunlight  on buildings

part of architectural coursework.

Challenge to draw the perfect round sun 

answering questions on speed of light 

in school science book conjures up before my eyes

rays of light fetch such fond memories

each morning, light descending

ushering a new dawn in all our lives

Rambled Darkness

 Tossing and turning

I stare at my husband envious

whose eyelids cling like new lovers

the moment his form turns horizontal.

His snores, my sole armour 

to face every nocturnal demon 

visiting  each towering night

till my exhausted thoughts droop.

 

BUCKET LIST

 It set me thinking, do I even have a bucket list not sure 

never heard the word before when I was young

Why is it called  a bucket list? 

Do we really need to have lists to fulfil

Is contentment a bygone word

or erased from dictionaries

I knew only one list and that's the grocery list

the very word sounds closed

an what are the rules of a bucket list?

do we need to keep filling it,

once it is  ticked?

I wonder, the word bucket conjures a n image of the 

deserts in Africa, where women walk long to carry buckets of water

do they know what's a bucket list

yeah, maybe carrying buckets of water.

CONFESSION

A petty bruise meant seeking attention

struggle a word, I sulked when it came near me

setbacks made me irritable and moody

impatient was my disliked decades old prefix. 

Pain now seems pleasure, struggle is liberating,

hinderances happen, patience is to sit still

every failure is a mirror one must gaze hard

 blessed  to have stumbled on these new definitions.

Dripping late in my life these truths seem priceless 

growing up definitely was smiles and laughter

yet never realised while I was growing 

that bliss is acknowledging and learning 

and talking to self first than with others.

Still a long road ahead, yet each day seems so joyful

potholes and road blocks do surface often

I possess no magic wand yet feel calm

Spend more time with yourself 

to figure out who you are

and embrace whatever comes your way

acquiring tools to equip each day.

INCOMPLETE BREATH

The last two years seem like eternity

each day a prelude closer to face of death

some escaped, some were caught unawares.

It sprang upon us in myriads of ways

sneaking around the corner waiting with bated breath

deluding humans of the untaught art of breathing.

Patients lie helpless on bed, tubes and pipes strapped

Every time the visual props on television

My heart breaks into million pieces.

My scattered pieces can still be gathered and joined

What about  of those 

who lost their loved ones struggling to breathe.

Fragmented units of families who lost their solitary bread earner

moist flakes of old parents whose only child is buried

tattered shreds of the abandoned spouse who has to relearn to live.

They all scrape each corner of their heart 

for any memories of their left breath

their only solace to survive on this lonely planet.