Why?
Why atrocities?
Why dead bodies?
Why heart aching
news all around?
Will the dead
wakeup ever
And return to
the laps of
Ill-fated
mothers?
Mourning sun's
radiant face hides
Behind the dark
clouds
under a
stretched raining sky.
The fragrance of
the season, the flowers
Resemble fading
memories
The blushing
eyes,
Those bent necks
cry for saving their lives.
In a sacred hour
of loneliness,
Weeping air asks
for the reason
To my ever-free
consciousness.
The Vortex
A drop of tear
from the eye balls
When rolls down
the cheek
And a condensed
droplet from the hanging clouds,
Along with the
melting cosmic beam
After all, touch
the ground
And meet an end.
Hopes and
Unlamented
sorrows
Shatter the core
of the heart,
The colours of
the seasons
And anticipatory
senses
Merge into a
melancholic vortex.
The cosmic ocean
where broken
hopes and
Shattered dreams
of humanity and humility
Take shape under
the notes of
Barbaric
feelings.
A Sensible Poise
Flowers bloom
And flourish in
the woods of mind and soul
Carves a
painting on the canvas of self-contentment.
A pious sense
That makes us
feel serene
Purifies the
self with calmness and placidity
A full moon
smiles in the distant sky
Sprinkling
silvery powder of grace and elegance
And keeps
turning the angels into white lotus with beauty.
It’s appearance
As a brilliant perception of life
Of- course
transforms the mortal world into a heaven
For a moment,
may be a second or a minute
And comes as no
less a Frost of all agony
Below the
point of freezing,
Turning my eyes
totally disillusioned,
And land under
my feet turns slippery to slide.
Rolling Seconds
Years, months
and days
Have rolled down
in a quick succession
Memories yet
hunt
For a precise
solace and consolation.
Time flew
unnoticed ...
The yellow pages
of life’s poetry book
Depict the
severe wounds received
The scars in
feelings leads to sets of illusion
And obsolete
memories blur the vision.
The Staines of
tear drops
Still whisper a
love note,
That we meet
again
Even though the
lonely heart
Awaits the lilac
clouds of hopes and prosperity
To restore its
rain.
RAJASHREE MOHAPATRA
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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