Tuesday, August 1, 2023



A Silver Line


A silver line of solitude

May weave wisdom and call for a high sublimation

A conflict surfaces

Between Compassion and hatred

When love needs to rest.


As time passes

Ripples in the lake fade

Evening goes dim and pale

A gloomy night approaches in profound silence

And prevents anything to be seen in the darkness.


The temple bells profusely cry

With chanting of sacred hymns

The scattered prayers rugs in the streets

 lead me into my trances.


Oh! The Invisible mercy

Have I not sought you desperately

And awaited your kindness

Before I get caught in the gulf of fear .


Embedded Scar


Between the sea and the shoreline

A drop of water touches my feet

And dries up leaving scars behind.


Seems it evaporates to form a

Cloud of unspent love

In the azured sky over the head

And concentrates to head a storm

To downpour a few memories instead.


A grain of sand swapping

With strong waves of attachment

Is embedded in the abyssal plain 

At the base of a continental rise of jealousy and hatred.


Unaware of these I walked miles away

Indifferently, hallucinated under an unmerciful sun

Keeping the frozen ground of jealousy and hatred away.


Tides in mind and soul that rise and fall like waves

Do ever hunt like a vibration of love

 Oh Alas!

It is just a grandeur

Just as love in autumn or winter,

That dazzles with golden scopes.


Fire In Smoke


When a spark ignites a flame

Breath starts dancing in rhythm

Heart beats appear sacred

And the mind sings an emotional rhyme.


The shadows, the night and the spill of pain

Frame the words to compose the hymn

They convey what they intend to

And cast a shadow on my skin .


Half-baked thoughts of a sea of tranquility

With lofty desires of tiny dreams

Fill my blank soul with sweetness of a beehive

And sitting by the window pane

I see a teasing moon 

While the azured sky reminds me,

Glimpses of fire in mounds of         

smoke may remain still alive.


My Dreamland


Wish I belong to a land of my dreams

A trouble-free, fascinating and imaginative

But not mundane yet promethean.


Here the spring would be joyful like early youth

Summer would be rejoicing in pink

To make me concerned about both

Innocence and burning passion.


Autumn would be ready in time to be 

With a parody and try to evoke in me

A sense of happiness and prospective positivity.

The streets would be resilient and dazzle

Like the beams of the moon,


The blue birds flying with the cool breeze

Would often excite me by teasing,

Reminding me of Him who let me to possess my dreamland as a boon.


They would unbelievably whisper into my ears

That I am not far away from serenity.

I would love to transact but soon they would fly away leaving me totally vexed and testy.


I would keep on failing to guess

Where do they come from and

Where do they aviate instead 

That they know me and my address

Would my neighborhood try to propagate.


I would wish those blue birds fly around me

And sing for me the songs of my soul

While allowing me to realize

The veteran director who created me

And my dreams as wormed ambrosial.


My desires would provoke me to meet You.

Oh my creator!

It never matters

If I slip off the height of my urges

But I never quit for I believe,

It's not how far I fall,

But how high I bounce to inhibit.

Copyright@Rajashree Mohapatra Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India



RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA: Born in Odisha in India has received her master’s degree in ' History ‘and 'Journalism and Mass Communication' from Utkal University, Odisha. She is a teacher by profession. Being a post graduate in ' Environmental Education and Industrial Waste Management ' from Sambalpur University Odisha, she has devoted herself as a Social Activist for the cause of social justice, Environmental issues and human rights in remote areas through non-governmental organisations. Poetry, Painting and Journalism are her passions.

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