When I crush the tender ice below my feet ......as I walk in downtown Toronto
I think of the Indian Spring.....the cuckoo's song, the smell of Jasmine
The wind chill reminds me of the warmth I willingly left behind
The warmth of my language, loved ones and my past pulled into tomorrow
I walk bundled up in my jacket and reach the intersection of Queen and Bay
I think of the Gulmohar- lined streets in my town blushed into crimson red
Of how the cuckoo's notes woke me every summer from my bed
The dawn splendidly attired by the gifts of May.
I walk along the frozen lake and think of Godavari's banks
I think of the long evenings I with my firends when I get on subway
I can't help but smile upon the laughter that rose out of pranks
A few things left behind and so many to catch on my way
These memoris of the Indian Spring lead me into a cold cold winter.........
And give me the dreams that I may realise as I crush the ice so tender.
5 comments:
What a beautiful poem.
Keep it up Sonal. I shall look forward to reading many poems like this one.
Elijah
Sonal,
very beatiful, Realy I like them. Keep up. I am proud of you.
krushna
Really Nice Poem Sonal.
Now if you are planning to write in both languages Hindi & English. i would suggest to have separate blogs for each. From my experience I have felt that it is not a good practice to have a single blog mixing both of them. This way you will lose readers of both language specially English.
So make a separate blog for English. And I think "Indian Spring" is good name for this.
Really very good poem.
Keep writing .
Best wishes.
Sheetal
Well Sonal, I think your poem has substance i.e. content but the form can be used to bring out the depth of emotion and experience, and thus suggest the irony which you have put so plainly.
My suggestion is you come down to Eden Complex for a Poetry Workshop.
Dont worry about the food and all, we also offer excellent babysitting services in the form of Mruga aka Prajakta.
Bye for now
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