The Falling Maples- Living Unconditionally- Poetry by S.S

A raising tumult, A burning rage, The inner self so fierce , As a ranting devil, Trapped in a cage; A tranquil self, A reposed heart, A mind at ease, Like a huntsman aiming, patiently his dart; Dewy eyes, Piqued soul, Used to the core, Saturated with hurt, Wounded and sore; A wandering mind, Curious with visions, Breaking all bounds, Of fascination And passion; A Poet is but, Seasons personified, Imaginations glorified, Senses untethered, Keeper of Ever blooming blossoms, And never ending despair; A warrior, With an ink filled sword, Splattering the words, Of joy and glum; Like you, Like him, Like her, I am a Poet, And a day would be, My last, Forgotten I would be, But the ink in my words, Would be, Forever! (c) S.S 

(c) Shilpa Sandesh As they walked together, In the fresh morning mist, Midst the Maples, Bathed in the dew drops, Their bodies tense, With an urge; Two pairs of feet, Cold and wet, With the winter droplets, Their fingers touch, Unrushed and gentle, Their pace dwindles, An abating stride, Ceasing the walk; Holding her hands, He looks at her coy self, Two pairs of quivering lips, Ardently closed eyes, She trembles, Embracing her he says "My beautiful coy lady, My heart skips a beat, When our eyes meet, Be my woman, Be the one, In love with me, Let's be one, And be elated, Into the world, Of bliss Into the moments Of euphoria and ecstasy Let's be ruled By the spirit of love!"  

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Frolicsome always, Carefree and brash, Reckless and shoddy, And a playful heart, The world might see him,  As a casual or nonchalant self, But those are the eyes, Covered with a veil, Masked with hypocrisy, silhouettes plastered, By the flouncing facades Shrouded by swank; But her eyes, are those blessed ones, Charmed with a peek, Into that beautiful heart, A heart, So compassionate and genial, Soft and placid, A face ever smiling, Beaming with joy, Sheathing all the anguish, Cloaking all the tears; Her heart filled , With an unconditional love Says, "It's love that speaks for you, Don't mistake it, To be sympathy! Meaning of this life, Now clears, I would stand with you, In sorrows and in happiness, Together we would conquer, The odds that be, And life would , No more be a pity!"

(c) Shilpa Sandesh The turmoil within This turbulent heart, Filled with pangs, Which she is Unable to understand; The Souls she meets, And the ones she's come across The ones she is glad To have met, And the ones knowing whom She still regrets; She sees Your arms, Open wide, For that divine embrace, And the One Spirit's sight, Let her tempestuous self Be at peace, Her volatile mind, Be brought to ease.

Poem (c)  Shilpa Sandesh                                                                                                      Photography (c) Samrat C The raucous voices, And despotic selves, Inevitably rasping, Constantly boorish; The genteel utterances, Gracious and urbane, Delightful appearances, Amusing and pleasing; But  Soon the veil is removed, Faces separated , From the disguise, And the truth unsheathed, The actuality revealed; The raucous is the genteel, Refined and courteous, The boorish is pleasing, Lovely and affable, But it's the world, Of the glitters and glints, All that shimmers, Is contemplated as supreme; Least do we know, Enveloped is the verity, Encrusted underneath, ...

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Retreat of the soul, Isolation of the thoughts, Quietness of the mind, Or  A sequestered subconscious; Elsewhere and far away, From the chaotic  From the state of being In pandemonium, From the anarchic  And a confused world; Solo, On the rocks midst the sea, Unaccompanied, In the snow clothed peaks, Unchaperoned, In the woods that be; Rejuvenation and restitution, Sometimes come with, Being solitary!

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Her luminesce smile, Glowing and shimmering, The beam that enveloped, Darkness in her heart, Dismal and somber, Just like the rocks, Sheathed with, The sprinkle so white, Of the snow around.