As a volunteer village drummer at Rotary Orchid: A poem by Grace Seetharaman

The Circle of life,
The infinite ring,
Where it begins
When shall it end,
Who sings In between
Who earned in the
canteen?
All of this turns to mere
experiences, 
,some good some better
with a jitter. 
What we make of it,
Is what really matters. 
Age and size no bar,
Life is an instrument
to play,
and each one is a star! 
The silver oaks stand tall,
A few may bend and 
some may buckle. 
The fact is, they are
Where we shall be
tomorrow. 
Old age is a blessing,
not all live to see 
many beautiful sunrises,
a spectrum of memories. 
A handful of us break 
the dawn,
Playing  on these 
vibrant village drums! 
The drums echo,
the ancient calls..
The  circle of life
grows with every
beat and fall.
I am, is as we all are!
What goes up, shall
come around,
to rotate the  Circle 
of Life!



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A stranger: A poem by Preeti S Manaktala

Image
On a quest to search you—  many questions still remain unanswered. You, a stranger, an enigma and mystical.  I wonder who you really are? Not again, don’t step into my thoughts. Shall I let go of my quest, as you seem too far. You stir my being, question my journey. I long to touch you, you the stranger!  Shall I seek you through the Northern lights? Or see your light in the Fireflies?  Experience your wrath in the Volcanoes  Or your myriad colors through a Rainbow!  You are inaccessible like Moon the stars.  Folklore says I must tread Mount Kailash. Crying and yelling, I even searched for you on my dad's funeral. But now, I find you everywhere!! I feel you in the raindrops. I feel you in the breeze. I feel you through the sun rays. When I close my eyes in ecstasy, I, finally feel you within me...! 
Read more

The book of my life: A poem by Richa Srivastava

Image
It looks just like 'ordinary' as the word is... No shiny wraps to cover its face... Simple as it looks, But every page has a hook for taking another look. Be gentle when you flip its page You'll find some imperfect perfect moments at every stage.. Don't skip a few... for it bores you... You might miss  my  accomplishments, tucked away neatly in a line or two...   They say, ' Life  is not a bed of roses'  You'll see... Some lines are full of agony and bruises... Turn the corners delicately... For some fragile smiles may try to slip through, impatiently... Every line that you have read... ..Is the truth I have always dread... It's not me that you read... it's  my  soul that you've reached! That's not all!  You heard me right! The best is yet to arrive! Its the journey I have been through, Like a roller coaster ride,  This is, This is... "The  book  of  my   life ".     
Read more

The tree house: A story by Neha Gupta

Image
  It was the first day of school after a long summer vacation. Students were walking towards the main lobby from the entrance of the school. After the deadly silence of two months school was alive again with chatter and jubilant sounds from the students. Watching the students climbing stairs and reaching their respective classrooms, there I stood, the first-grade homeroom teacher. While most of the students were having a joyful time, there was a boy standing very quietly in one corner. After watching him for some time I approached him and asked his name and class but didn't get any reply. He held his face down looking at his shoes all the time. I then scanned his school ID to find that the boy's name is Anish, a new admission, and a student of my class itself. The boy was living in the school hostel. I observed that Anish did not speak with anyone in the class. One full week passed like this, I hoped every day that he would start mingling and making friends. He was lost i
Read more