An Evening At Marina
I
meander my way at the sea coast
to
escape the sweltering heat that toasts
enjoying
the sea’s salty kiss upon my feet
as
the sky sings the title song of the night
on
the faded glory of the dying day
the
chance of the day’s last rays,
maybe
their last wish too,
to
impress dusk with their sheer beauty
to
bid adieu on a good note at sunset
a
farewell multihued
with
full of pigments billowing
as
that of a painters pallet
and
I see the sun watching
its
own reflection in the mirror of the ocean
from
behind the curtain of dark clouds
those
trot in the sky to trim their waists
Holy Himalayas Beckon Me
An
abode of snow, where god resides
in
silence and sanctity,
wild
and wicked winds,
betwixt
meditating mountains
whose
forehead the sky fervent to kiss,
snow-fed
rivers flow like lonely souls
who
know where to go, go nowhere else,
with
tributaries straddling many borders.
The fluffy clouds disturb the icy solitude
snowy
peaks vie with each other
to
cuddle the floating clouds swirling near,
in
a long slumber it lies, even time at pause,
as
if to forget pains of the past.
A
haughty thought crosses my mind
If
I could fly like a bird
over
its serene peaks, gracefully,
braving
the thrash and lash of the vile wind
touch
their snow-white turbans,
land
there gently as a ballerina,
make
out whether they ascend to the sky
or
the sky descends to their peaks;
Who
holds the flight of stairs?
or
sans one at all..?
A
wish unbound
to
make my while worth the voyage.
I Know Why The Birds
Sing
Chuckling,
chattering
you
swoop and loop in the sky
amidst
curling clouds and mist
look
snug and shy, possess poets’ soul,
chirps
echo in the air
show
the world you are in love.
Perched
on trees by the rivers’ rim
dazzling
in robes of vivid hues
rainbow
wings and bills sleek
notes
you sing in tuneful voice
like
a midnight choir from afar
to
awaken me from avid dreams.
In
the wilderness of woods,
in
the silence of wastelands
you
sing to flowers wild
like
a fragrant vile
with
a pounding heart
for
nature to hear your secret ails.
In
the solitude of autumn
on
mossy trees in meadows
branches,
bare and brown
leaves
bent in grief
you
sing in winter sleet
notes,
sweet and mellow
to
announce spring is here.
I
know why the birds sing.
© K Pankajam
K Pankajam
K Pankajam, retired from BHEL as
DM/Finance is a bilingual poet, novelist and translator writing in English and Malayalam with
eighteen published books to her credit, including ten books of poems and one
translated into French. She is one of
the editors of the journal ‘Teesta Review’.
Her articles, poems, book reviews/papers have been published widely and
anthologized. Her poetry has been discussed in detail in the book ‘Femininity-Poetic
Endeavours’ authored by Dr. V V B Rama Rao.
She is the recipient of Oriental Poetry Award 2016, one of the
receipients of Ravindranath Tagore Award for Poetry International 2017 and
2018, Poiesis award for short stories international 2017, 2018 and 2019, Shree Atal Behari Vajpayee Award 2019
and Rock Pebbles National Literary
Award 2019.