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The moon,

withering,

silence,

a stone.

The pride and vanity of love.

Time passes by, looks askance

at the two sitting on the rock. Time, wonders in passing.

The ravages cannot be undone. Just then

a silly bird sends out a call.

And one of the two sitting on rock throws

up to the sky

high above to the moon

a ball of gold saved over years a bounty of love and hails the bird,

"Silly bird without your silliness

how would we ever have lived and loved?"

Sushama Karnik.

Francoise

 Among the silhouettes dense and dark, shines the bottle that catches light, transparent like a mirror that has nothing to hide. The sea roars in ecstasy at the thought it is being watched by a thousand eyes in celebration of the timeless moments of the evenings in summer.

A leaf in a diary

 A leaf that dries between the pages of a diary

tells the story of a lifetime.

A leaf, an archetype, a metaphor that has grown

and kept growing between the pages of a diary

that someone owned.

Blue and green and matt finish,

the ripened wizard that silently reads

and then stores the words in its veins.

A rejuvenizing. A leaf stored between the pages of a diary, ingenuously adds its own words

when the writer encounters a block.

The darkness in the pause does not scare the leaf;

it has gone through it all in some other life time.

It's lying happily wrapped up between the pages

of someone's diary, breathing, reading the pages adding, filling in, cascading sometimes the storms it has seen, interrupting the flow and trembling with a thoughtful concern for the gentle pages

of the diary grown old, blessing the writer's days and nights.

Sushama Karnik.

The credit for the image goes to my artist friend Lise Wal from MeWe.

  

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Over time, the torch bearer grew strong, his contours sharp, his presence ubiquitous, and vision pervasive over centuries of time. Where once he was and where he will be tomorrow, his mind could read. An awesome range of history, chronicled, and most of its moments that went unchronicled, were now inscribed in his mind with certainty. He stood on the rock to greet the sun. Behind him the reddening sky, the ancient hills, all proclaimed, "You are a timeless being." And he with a smile said, " Stars in heaven, my witness be! I shall return!"

Tighe O'Donoghue Ross

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ONCE AND FUTURE...14th stage...( I Shall Return ), ..”there is nothing which I have not been “………final version.

The saga of the green earth

 The saga of green earth told by the clouds and watched by woman..

The grass, like a teenager, feels the growing pain, and bends low, too full with the happiness it cannot contain.

The harvest time is waiting for the moon.

A stunning beauty!

Anguished beauty

The moments of menstrual pain in the bowels of earth

are softened by the soothing , healing sky.

The woman has a lot to learn and inherit

from this saga writ large in the field of grass,

and translated for the woman by the generous sky.

Sushama karnik.

Thanks for the image Ivan Ivanov

My poem on Kalyani

 6 April 2025. Sunday morning

One day, on a morning of April sunshine,

she came.

She was not alone;

she came with her three children; I saw her as never before.

She was a kid again, one of them.

She frolicked like a fawn, dipped her feet in the sand and waves.

They talked to the sea as if to a long lost friend,

and returned to the bed of sand,

virgin but for their footprints in the unruffled bed of sand, the sand

left behind by the ebbing tide.

She was a river flowing in flood.

The sea had that day read her mind and soul;

took away the gloom gathered over time,

and filled her pockets with pearls and shells,

a gift, a blessing that will echo over time.

Comments on my poem on Kalyani

 Françoise Dhulesia

The vision was that of a dream, this perfect moment when the world opens up and the mind is in unision with nature.

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Sushama Karnik

Françoise Dhulesia It was based on my visit to Aqsa beach , a few miles away from our house. I visited the beach with my son's wife and my three grandchildren on a morning.

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Françoise Dhulesia

Sushama Karnik How wonderful!

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Sushama Karnik

Françoise Dhulesia

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Mahee Dharan

Wov....life itself is a dream ....how can we revise yesterdays....each moment lives in memories....sweet sometimes sad ....all are memories...dream itself is a memory....I can see you now in my memory....that's also a dream ....the essence of a dream is a vision....now I can realise the seed hides in your poetry jee...it germinates in my dream ....love you so much my honorable friend...mahe

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Sushama Karnik

Mahee Dharan Thank you so much, Mahee Dharan for this beautiful comment.

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Sushama Karnik

I wrote this for my daughter-in-law. She and her three children had come from Canada and stayed with me for a few days. This poem celebrates the memory of my vision of her and the children playing on Aqsa Beach. I like your precious comment, not a comment but a vibrant poem like your works of art in sculpture. I'll save this post among my saved posts. You can't imagine how happy I am to have received such a fine tribute to the place of moments lived in memory in our lives. Thank you so much my dear friend.

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