Poetry Collection
Verses on spirit, silence & the infinite
Proclamation
What magic in the bag of beingA reward brings by every rummage,Never empty of thought or feeling,Bri
New Offerings
How little is the geography of deedsThat a mortal will doth toiling expressBy limbs of thought and s
O Time
How many suns wouldst thou O timeSwallow whole by yawning jaws of night,Bartering a mar-faced moon’s
Worship
Oh why must the throes of every birthBegin helpless, wary and aimless?In tenure of day gain a little
I Remember
Why O Mother must He cast me thus,Framing my days in His sullen mood?All my prone pleas do not impre
Graces
What eye hast Thou planted then withinThat miracles everywhere suddenly sees,What new sense didst Th
A Reverie
Once I paused long in a reverie’s spaceAnd found there a crowded scene silent,Faces familiar and unf
Fruits
In my parched wastelands are their oases,My silent vacancies harbour hundred voices,My life’s deplet
Who Stands There?
The walls are scaled, the gates are breached,The ever seeing sentinel eyes are deceived,Through guar
Cave
My cup is parched, long emptiedOf meaningful intent, of will it is vacantAnd the force of life is al
Beauty
Who art Thou ambling in effortless splendourAlong golden coasts radiantly shining?Seeding in a milli
Hymns
A hundred varied seasons yet none my own,Like a helpless farmer gazing at dark cloudsThat loom with
Companion
I am mine no more, in me NatureHer suzerainty over parts does impose,Mind trails not the will’s curv
The Ruse
I found the ruse, the sleight of desireLurking in form, the unreachable faceThat flits in moments th
Meagre Offerings
Who inhabits this frame vacillating thus,Hobnobbing with delinquents, ruminating with sages?Wither t
This Birth
How many elements in my memory,Borne in bone remembrance of stone,In flesh are imprints of soil and
Outrun
Oh I have fled from Thy pursuit,Assumed the mask of many bodiesAnd ventured upon life anonymous,Yet
Who Art Thou
Who art Thou, light-maned hungerProwling in my thoughts stealthily?Devouring cherished fawns of desi
Not Thus
What mystery is in Thy silence,Magnificent, aloof, supernal!Such grandeur in Thy repose,August, divi
Her Hive
Bold were the machinations of falsehoodImposing on lives and minds its dreadhood,Weaving through mis
Earth Awaits
Halt awhile O splendid museToday thy overtures I must refuse,For thou must for me ferryThis plea to