A Haiku

years have become

weathered charms of time

strings of dust

-

Anant Dhavale

A Million Years ( edited)

 On whose shoulders perches the eagle? 

Who mourns through gusts of eastern rushing winds?

A boy who grew up in dullness could never escape it

gripped by a melancholy

too great for his little heart

But the band marched on

he watched decades descend on the great delta,

hoping for better days -

an ascent of his own

Grief is borne out of grief

and nothing more occurs

The valley surged with new delights

newer clans took over the streets and the

capitalist mansions of hallowed democracies

But his rising never arrived

He wrote, and he kept writing

To the rise of the valley and his own ennui

Everything shall pass 

Nothing will remain :

the tree that gave you shelter, 

 the 'you' that took the shelter, the shelter that gave, 

or the act of taking. 

there is no greater conundrum,

than a meaningless wait,

no sadness bigger than what dwells in your heart

you, the tiny island of life

in you, revolves the end

He walked with a peasant's feet,

with smells of soil in his soul

through his eyes flew the monsoons, the dreary summers

the toil of generations – scattered along the sparse shadows of Neem

We were no warriors; our king taught us to fight.

Cities – glittering settlements of hollow people in their

grim, sky-high sepulchers of opulence

Cities – the urban barrens of wealth and dust and smoke

they mocked him,

Pushed him back – crushed him to death

Never the truth – and the truth lays

scattered in feathers of slain birds

sullen backroads covered in blood and soot

He walked into the cold, dark gray blossoms

"Who am I, my beloved?" he asked the universe

"Where am I headed?"

decades have passed, and he hasn't reached anywhere,

And the Godavari, she

has flown past another

million years.

-

Anant Dhavale

A note to the readers of this blog

I have kept this blog as a journal up until now. Most of my work here is largely unedited and needs cleaning up - which I intend to do over the coming days. 

Thanks for your patience!

Haiku

 years have become 

weathered charms of time 

strings of dust 

Anant Dhavale

copyright © Anant Dhavale

Haiku

 years have become 

vague notions of the past 

a string of rays and dust 

Anant Dhavale

copyright © Anant Dhavale

Haiku

quarantine or not

the spring is bound to arrive

the blossoms fear none

-

Anant Dhavale

Haiku

at once alarmed, the 

flock takes off in a jiffy

sounds of flaps linger

-

Anant Dhavale

Copyright © Anant Dhavale

Haiku

 deep blue and

untroubled - this pure 

thought of yours

-

I want to let go of

a few things urbane

be the simple kid I was

-

Anant Dhavale

Copyright © Anant Dhavale