Running train, a window seat, a wooden bench,

In search of truth my eyes wander

looking outside

at the passing trees.

Bidding good bye to every tree, not to miss a single tree

as each tree carries a dream. For a lifetime

I haven't been on a train,

a train with a window seat,

a ravishing wind ruffles wild

my heart, my hair, sweeping past the land's monuments.

Dreams come and settle before I sleep.

The only desire I cradle

is to sleep a prolonged dream.

Sushama Karnik.

!5 January 2024.

Ivan Ivanov

sSorndoetpef9ata48h1r145A6fM0euayshd7tl01 9a Y :tu4915a51319  · 

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9Françoise Dhulesia, Sem Xtz and 7 others

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Françoise Dhulesia

A visual poetry in these lines where motion and stillness echo one another in a fine balance of sensations, with the train like beating the rhythm and inviting to dream.

A beautiful reverie, an homage to a certain form of solitude,

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Sushama Karnik

Françoise Dhulesia Your words bring to my mind what you wrote a little while ago on the solitude of Parisians ln the cafetarias. That was an insider's view of the solitude of the people in the cafe, alone, yet connected. Though this poem is a reverie there is an urge to connect with herself. The Parisians in the cafe are also trying to connect with themselves at many levels, through news through books, through just takin in the randomly heard conversation at the next table.

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Françoise Dhulesia

Sushama Karnik You would be a perfect Parisian, from what you write in the last sentence!

Yes, to be there, and not there at the same time, to overhear what is being said at the table next to me! To read and to like to be interrupted every now and then… by the sight of some stranger, to photograph and also pretend I am not photographing anyone, to share an atmosphere with no one I know around, and then... to leave the place, unnoticed... until the next time!

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Sushama Karnik

Françoise Dhulesia Naughty woman!

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Tips and Toes and a Glossy Glow

 Tips and toes, in a glossy glow,

a candle, the autumn lights,

the rebel season that defies age,

and teaches the trees to celebrate.

The fall is the season of rising again,

brushing off the dust in the wind and air,

the season heavy with the load of pollen,

the air with the scent of of the clouds.

The full moon emerges like Rembrandt's figure

shimmering on the backdrop of night.

Drop off to sleep on the moonlit pillow,

and lie on the bed as if it's a meadow

touching the horizon marked by hills.

These golden leaves will fall in dreams

like stars of heaven singing hymns.

Say adieu to all doubts and

trustfully fall in the arms of sleep..

Sushama Karnik.

Thanks for the image György Fülöp

2 Years Ago

See your memories

György Fülöp

  · 

Autumn impressions .

#autumn #bokeh #colorful

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5Françoise Dhulesia, Sem Xtz and 3 others

 Winter enters on soft toes.

Winter enters the corners of the kitchen and shines.
In soft tones it brightens the jars, reminds the stove, it must warm and exude the light of its flamme, blossom into the steams of aroma
the tastes of spices, the herbal greens, the tea leaves flying and jumping into the bubbles of water and carry the acrid smell of burning leaves.
The winter warms; it enlivens; does not freezer when you know how to welcome winter
like a trusted friend catching a night train
and coming to meet you in the hour of dawn.

Sushama Karnik. 

 Dappled grey hides the green of the waves,

restless under the night screen.

A dawn awakes like the soil nearer to the line of horizon

cracked by the drifting summer lights.

A boat nearer to the horizon

lures the two trailing behind

with a vision of the sea calmer yet

than what they know

of the sea that will not let go

of the night that rocks them

on the dappled grey, clouded

with the season's uncertainty

of the weather and the moods of the sea. All they know is they must follow the one who has braved the waves

and is nearing the day far away,

a red signature on the dappled green.

Sushama Karnik.

Feb.19 2024. 6 45 AM