Tuesday, September 11, 2007
ghazal ("on your answering machine")
Every journey has uncertainties how deep are ours!
every mountain path has trouble spots how steep are ours!
to unite more close we travel afar this is our fate
to awaken we seek deeper dreams for sleep is ours
if the self is pure how come we employ form-&-name talk?
an enigma wrapped in layers heap on heap is ours
afternoons I nap in eve I arise vivid & bright
every nature has its foibles what the bleep is ours?
my employer said though wanting me back where was the need?
are my paintings showing promise? what we keep is ours
let us wander in the luxury of beautiful thoughts!
quite untroubled if a shirt homespun & cheap is ours
every day one draws afresh the thematic diagram
you're our premise when conclusion's wayward leap is ours
we've got questions that the universe now brings to a head
on your answering machine what tails the beep is ours
musically our chat resumes its caprice from age to age
whereas Bageshri is yours soon raag Patdeep is ours
doesn't nature's realm illuminate how love's language grows?
where the cricket's chir is yours the sparrow's cheep is ours
everything is yours! the canvas is yours! each stroke is yours!
what we sow is yours! who'd then claim what we reap is ours?
she inscribed the news to Raphael that his path was clear
catch his summer smile? whatever rainclouds weep is ours