My last motif is the window. A gateway to lives and people, 

to all that exists in fragmentation. , 

An endless sea, and the infinite sky that overhangs and follows,

and me like a tired carpenter,

mending, replacing,

putting together

the broken parts.

to not let the deluge break into me.

Filling in the gaps with stitches.

I keep myself busy

because one day they are to come through the window

the sky and the sea

I am indecisive whether to let them in

or barricade 

my precarious fragile existence.

On a calm rainy day it changes. 

The wall between me and the world is sawed off. 

The sea and the sky invade,

unannounced.

 Morning! Reflections.

Swirling tides. Falling off.

The sunrise

Haze in the midst of light. 

Morning. I want to sleep, lest this mirage slip in the sands.

Rolling shadows.

A choppy sea, felt from the windows of a submarine.

No bird sings.

A calm that descends 

and closes the wind. 

 Venus in the sky of a moonless night,

a swan in a shimmering lake of dawn,

single on the occult path strewn with specks of light,

the stillness of the mist in a lake without a ripple,

she comes with the dawn, and melts

with the coming of the sun.

For more than a quarter of a year

the Venus shines in the east

only to disappear for long,

and comes back with opulence

once again in the west.

She resonates with lovers.

Her reverberations fall on earth

and brighten her occult path.

As like an angel cursed

she stays for a borrowed interval of time

tossing her mystical rays on the evening sky

in waves of orange, blue and mauve

in the arms of the darkness waiting at the end of the sky.

When the evening arrives, I pray,

: Let the light of Venus stay.

There are innumerable pages yet to be written;

they are fair and blank.

Venus shine; be not dim.

Fear not, faint not, hold up

the lamp which we can dimly see.

Show us beauty, show us sense.

Venus, shine and spread your rays.

Sushama Karnik

May 2020

 Like a jettisoned cargo the mountain let go

the turbulence of water.

Was it too much of a load for the mountain to carry?

And the water leaped in an ecstasy.

All around the edges of the fall were trees and the moss.

Even in that tremendous leap was the sound

of a prelude to a hymn;

a rapid fall and the slowest of of the melodies

that only a waterfall knows how to sing!

And the valley felt the thrill .

A tiger at night, a lone antelope, wolves and jackals

all stood aghast. Oh the sound of water

falling in the valley, sublime and awesome

in the self-same moment of time!

Sushama Karnik.

02/04/2022

Thanks for the image Tighe

Tighe O'Donoghue Ross

 An invisible hand that paints my life;

my mornings savour the taste of the coffee 

being poured sweetly with music in my mug. 

My window opens instantly with no password or a key. 

Watching the world flow beyond the mist gathered on the glass 

and feeling the warmth of the mist 

I gather in my heart the blending of the colour of my coffee 

and the tingling sensation of grey world out in the morning rush. 

Come and share with me once my bitter sweet coffee inside the room 

and beyond the glass of the window pane 

The world tinged with the shades of gray.

Sushama Karnik

There, I saw some godly beings

in robes of pink,

their bodies, drawn in a hazy ink.

I saw them fly past a sacred ring.

I saw them: a lady emerging in the greyish dawn,

her wisdom-child walking along, touching the brim of morning light.

As if someone had drawn them with the evening hues

and waited through the dark for the night to end.

In the light of the dawn, they flew

unfettered on the wings of the swan.

Sushama Karnik.

28/04/2021

 Certain mornings come

with a confusion on mind. I wake up late;

the trees are quiet; no birds sing.

I missed the hour of gratitude.

The hours are a drag, a push and pull.

I just want to go back to sleep and dream.

Such quiet on a morning

in this bustling town!

It's not in keeping with my city!

I remind myself, it's not good! It is the lockdown.

Keep the windows shut or open, as you please.

Pick up the phone, say a few words,

make a video call, connect.

Connect with the world.

Such a weird word, "Connect"!

I feel guilty at every point I missed

not having done those little things,

too much embroiled as I was in anxiety.

Yesterday, riding alone in the auto,

mindful of what I had to do

on my way to my vaccination,

a lad came to sell something

as the vehicle paused at the signal.

He kept chasing me;

I can't forget my guilt as he said,

Buy it for ten; ok; buy for eight.

I'm hungry."

I couldn't make up my mind

because I was nearing the place where I had to take a turn,

And I had better not make a mistake and miss that turn.

I didn't even look at his face. But his voice still lingers in my mind.

Throughout the day I was regretful

May God have given him some customer

who fulfilled his need.

God bless him.

1Françoise Dhulesia

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