Friday, September 1, 2023





This cacophony playlist of our history,

Recollections of jumbled alchemy twists,

Jolts my mind in a new found rhythm,

A brave new world of daring dreams.


No nostalgia, no regrets of panic,

And no turning back familiar scenes,

No matter to discuss, no words spread,

No careless expression to comprehend.


Grasp the gleaming vitals of passion,

A thing of past with no regressions,

They must not sway our sensations,

And hunker down in pity of darkness.


Beneath the puny cut-out stars shrine,

It’s no use longing for days to shine,

We missed our chance and panic-bought,

With little wisdom our woes wrought.


A Short Farewell


In my dreams I see my father sometimes,

Calling me on my phone while I am asleep,

Is it a dream or reality that my eyes are wet?

And I have been crying while talking to him,

I remember our last call from village farm,

As he said, " I am waiting for you to see

The good harvest and going to the fair together. "

He cut short the talk and bid farewell,

Not like always -"See you then ".

And I was sad because I knew I would not go,

And then he died the next day, so I had to go,

But I am happy that I lied I would be there,

With him in the field with the reapers,

Separating the husk from the grain,

It was a short farewell but long as eternity,

Eternal as the wet damp roof of Sevenoaks,

Like the peaceful panorama from the window,

Across the Orchard of pears and apple trees,

Eternal like the delivery boys bringing my goods,

Like the farmers home sowing seeds in rain,

Eternal like the fragrance of roses in my garden,

Like refugee workers picking grapes for wine,

Eternal as songs of lark on summer mornings,

Like swallows that come back home each Spring.




I know you are here but a reminder

Of a pale winter waiting and gone in time

While you bring swirling dry leaves all around

I am not fooled or awed by your colours

Creating your kaleidoscope with dying things

In your wake the dead face a cruel winter.


I know that being alone is not the same

As being lonely inside is not to blame

With twisting tales and careful steps

I’ll miss the feeling of my missteps

For as I fall down, I brace myself

To place my book back on its shelf.


Unspeakable transcendence waits for no one

It gazes through you until your eyes

Until you are transformed to nothing

You are ready to align with that distant glare

It stares and stares until nullified to something

Moments are distance as your face fades

And you are helpless, this is how it ends.


Quiet, like the night you disappear in the void

Soundlessly into thin air to reappear again

A butterfly with folded wings Afraid to fly

You exist but no peace fills your mind

Simply your soul is in anguish of doubts

And your wings so vibrant and light

Bear witness to your scars softly unseen.


You want to be heard and seen as loved

But you fail in your loneliness of hours

Burn the bridge that connects to yourself

Block the path to be seen and loved

Which leads you to first see yourself

Love yourself and spread your wings.





JYOTIRMAYA THAKUR born in India in 1956, is a retired Principal of Cambridge affiliated school, bilingual author of forty-seven books in many genres with many waiting to be published, translated in many languages and is a co-author in many International Anthologies.  Jyotirmaya earned a Bachelor’s Degree and Master’s Degree in English language and literature from Indian University and London University. She also earned Grandmasters Degree in Reiki Healing and Karuna Reiki as well as HFDE healing Degree. After graduation, she took several writing and communication classes that inspired her to pursue creative writing opportunities. She enjoys spreading positivity through her work and hopes to encourage her readers to reach their highest potential.

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