The postman gets no letters

He cycles around in patience
Around homes and in schools
He wishes no more than to
Let good news reach you soon
This messenger easily forgotten
When we mail our thank you's back
A postman gets no thank you's,
A postman gets no letters

He may be scorched by noon-sun
Or dripped in merciless rain
But he is a man with purpose
A purpose no one can stop him
Such driven men usually forgotten
When we thank the heavenly stars
A postman gets no thank you's
A postman gets no letters

Shiva

Shiva is the mystic I love, I awe. Shiva the creator of the universe. The one who was neither created nor (or should I be saying hence) would end. Shiva the one free of attachment; yet one who once thrived in lust. Shiva, of varied expressions Nataraja, yet one can practice penance for ages. Shiva the angry,the innocent, the loving. Yet Shiva the only one, who can rules over Nagas. Shiva does not exist, he lives in all of us. Indeed he, and us, are rules of this universe. Tied to nature, our true selves have taken forms. The character of Shiva is there is to remind us, that Gods need not be austere, detached and isolated. We can be Gods, by only being free. Free of our inhibitions, free of all bias, free of all attachments, and truly breathe in the Life.

Poetry not permanent

It is not true poets remember
Their poetry into oblivion
Poetry inspires just once
Like a night of wild passion
The morning does not carry
The what and when and who
So too is poetry, it blesses one and leaves

It is not true a poet
Creates, develops rhythm
It was never my creation
I am just nimitham
I know not who and why did
Create and send it to me

It is true though a poet
Is only but a mirror
And reflects what is pristine
In and around his soul

Snow is here!

White on earth, an orange stretch
A clear bright sky, makes a snowy night
This is no rain, no wind no gale
This is white fluff, a snowy serene

The snow falls on roads, and melds in as wet
It sticks to my hands, and burns in as bite
A snow takes many forms, innocent as sight
Keeps nothing for itself, reflects even light

You make me, Me

You laid the sky in front of me
As a carpet to walk on with pride
I with small feet, and a beautiful shy
How did you, come to be mine

You words brought out, the sweetness in me
You eyes mesmerized, made me a dazzling beauty
I was nothing, made of water and earth
Your love has made me, like a pearl revealed

In the moments of night, that is darkness and quiet
Your are the guide, the generous sunlight
Your touch makes me shiver, quiver and revel
As the misty morning, makes a rose full-bloom