The egg of a hope
To my brother, Robert
Four hundred yards from the church;
a riverbed lies near,
waiting for the rainy days;
a temple in the far east.
Evening rises like an
ancient egg just mined out
by a breathless geologist.
He believes that his dog wants
to enquire about his job
and there is one to get yet.
The dog really wants to know
if they are going to stay
here till spherical egg
of dinosaur break its shell.
The dog has acquired a few friends;
discovered a rabbit’s den.
He slowly pets its hairy head.
Four hundred yards; prayers make it.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
Shades in this season
And inside your eyes a mushroom blooms.
Does autumn have to mean fall always?
Though beauties cannot spell ‘freedom’,
freedom casts a spell on them. You touch
sadness as you set the fledglings free;
they hop; taste breeze, fly to instinct’s tree.
Mother, do we have to leave? You ask.
Futile questions. Two suitcases spill
cloths and things; how little one can choose
at the time of leaving, departing.
Pet birds fly. Waiting car, hurried last look,
a brown leaf, you pick up for keepsake.
You fumble for a dictionary.
Every word possesses varied meanings.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
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Comments: 89
An interesting question... :)
Though beauties cannot spell ‘freedom’,
freedom casts a spell on them.
It comes for them anyway. I like that.
I was so hoping the egg would hatch!
But what will come out?
Someday to know what it really is!
thanks,,,,,,
Poem 2: Great portrait of a young child's reluctant leave-taking. Everything in the scene you've painted echoes your theme.
Thank you for posting to The Surreal Circus.
Only if one wants to see the joy of the following seasons. Life is a different journey every day.
As per usual, your work, almost elusive, comes back to the center of living.
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
2nd one struck a chord. Leaving the in the fall, memories die like leaves...
Hey, I got an idea, I'll write a story about an island where I use dino DNA sucked from the blood of an ancient fly to recreate living dinosaurs and then have like a jeep-driven tour around the grounds and maybe give it a diabolical twist where the newly created dinosuars run amok and a lawyer gets eaten while sitting on the toilet. hmmmmm whatever would I call it? 'Jurassic Island', naw... 'Dinosaur Park' naw..... darn can't think of a title so i guess i won't write it after all; probably had been a bust anyway - too fantastical, wouldn't be able to draw an audience.
I was one of those kids. Dad was military.
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
"The dog really wants to know if they are going to stay here till spherical egg of dinosaur break its shell."
The dog knows, she knows, we will somehow stay. Love Ya Dude.
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