Abode

 Rains have touched

Your pure skin 

Winds have flown through your 

Hair 

Earth has lingered in your 

Being 

Your bosom, the 

Resting abode of this 

World.

-

Anant Dhavale

Be.

What’s found now was found then

Never was a time 

That didn’t be.

My now angst was my angst then

As we walked the dust laden roads 

In the sweet mist 

Amid the clamor of feigned truths

And how we walked 

We walked to be.

Farms of gold and green

Mourning the mirth, the fire

The silver of days 

Eyes never shone so brittle

Never was sadness that didn’t be 

Never farther 

Closer than be.

And you held it all together 

Like it meant to be.

—

Anant Dhavale

Ellorine

Parted lips 

and closed eyes; she resembles 

an ellorine sculpture 

ever so serene; it

appears as if 

she is lost 

in some land unknown 

though so close 

One could almost hear her breathe 

Curls float along her neck 

the slow western breeze 

adds

for the color 

to this perfect moment; this 

magnificence 

in this ever-so-imperfect world.

--

Anant Dhavale

© Anant Dhavale 

(I have used the word Ellorine to allude to the incredible Ellora caves) 

Abode

Rains have touched

Your pure skin 

Winds have flown through your 

Hair 

Earth has lingered in your 

Being 

Your bosom, the 

Resting abode of this 

World

-  Anant Dhavale

Stirrings

I do not wish to 

stir this 

calm of yours

dear bird 

I will admire your beauty 

from a distance.

--

Anant Dhavale

Mishmash

Evenings have come

and dis-appeared

afternoons have vanished

days are gone

time has a momentum

a rhythm 

A good long brood

and we realize 

the mishmash of rays

and the dust 

on the mornings 

are not eternal

neither are our qualms

--

Anant Dhavale

Haiku

--

river birches
along the quarantined road
un-quarantined.

--

remnants of drops
eddying around
the abrupt night

--

sagely birches
watch over
days, lives

--

i bet you'd know
it's not autumn yet
just a Passage

--

gallop, gallop gallop
there goes your life
three more gallops

-

Anant Dhavale