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

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