The Boy to the Kite

O kite you are in full flight....
Leaping and swaying
dipping and careering
describing wide loops
shooting up vertically
you seek the deep-most sky
to quench your quest
to come to stillness hopefully....

But--
My care follows you
The thread is invisible
even to you
like my gaze
Still, it is there
It will bring you back to me
because you belong to me.

The Little Boy Bully

The little boy bully
playing with a nail
pinned down a worm

Its acute intelligence
oppressing the squirmer
made the nail more arrogant

Even in its death-throes
unwittingly arching up
and biting the nail
the worm sounded apologetic
“Did I hurt you?”

The nail only boasted
“I am immune!”

And a wicked smile
creased a face--
the little boy bully's.

Trees

Still, tranquil figures
standing in their solemn majesty
in the morning chill….
The elanji, dense dark green
The neem, tall, looking up to the heavens
each leaf a marvel in sculpted perfection
The palms, their frilled umbrellas spread
The mulberry, its yellowing leaves falling,
yet a shivering bird or two perched on its skeletal twigs
The champak, its many tongues aquiver in a silent song
The peepul, its green hearts ever ready to ferry
a Baby Krishna in any deluge
a stray dog curled up cozily at its base….
Only humans buzz about in their myriad vehicles,
the lesser ones trudging along in bundles of woollens
restless, to gather a morsel and a little more….
Trees stand carefree, trusting Providence
getting everything where they are
in their calm dignity.