257. Images

Cluster of images
Brings to light
Moments of impish need
To fulfill illusions for wants
Till we rise from trance 
To realize it is impossible to avoid
The ever-growing chasm 
Yet we move through roughs and smooth 
Engulfed in grief

Feeling void.

256.राघव

रखबार राघव, रक्षक राघव
रसना रमल राघव रस रे l

राति, रौदक रचयता राघव
रचना रमल राघव रस रे l

रग-रगमें  रघूवर राघव
रग-रग रमल राघव रस रे l

राउ राघव, रत्न राघव
रत्ती-रत्ती रमल राघव रस रे l

रकटल रपटल रने रने

रमचेलबा रमल राघव रास रे l 

राम राम रामदुलरीक  रक्षक 

रेघा रहल  रमल राघव रस रे l

@बिनीता झा 

255.Accept

The road snakes out in front of me
Inviting me to undertake a journey 
Through its wondrous shades
Sadly the hues of pink no more appeal
No longer the full moon brightens  my spirit
I m haplessly lost in the flood of memories 
Threatening to drown me with its flow
There is no respite 
I realize 
Sometimes we have to learn
To ACCEPT 
What comes our way. 

@Binita Jha

254.Six little litters

Six little litters
All amazingly cute
Run helter skelter
In search of a cozy  shelter.

Six little litters
Escaping the chill
Of a cold wintry night
Bask in the morning sunlight.

Six little litters
Are faithful mates,
But are there any takers,
For these innocent home seekers?

By Binita Jha

253.Christmas

Christmas is over 
Today Santa lies discarded 
With no one searching for him
Accept the homeless urchins. 
The miniature Santa toy 
Bought on impulse 
From the hawkers
Has no takers but the urchins. 
The abandoned bright red caps
Strewn all over the street
Tells it's own story.
Luckily to beat the December chill
They are picked up with care
And adorn the urchins head. 
Now Santa would rest safe
On the dirty heads and untidy rags 
Till he deserts his poor takers
And ventures out next Christmas; 
Here he may not have plenty to eat
But there will be no
Dearth of love and care.

252.BLEAK TODAY

Shivering to their bones
Huddled on cold stones
Homeless gamble with life
As they burn biomass
To stop themselves
From turning into carcass.

In luxurios home we sit preaching
Realising little, sermons are easy
Reality crude.
How do we expect
Tomorrow to be bright
In the light of a BLEAK TODAY!

I burn the biomass
I am accused of polluting the air.
I am chased out of everywhere
I have yet to catch my breath.

I have no alternative
I am feeling numb
I need to rub
My hands and thumb.
Shivering on the cold stone
I huddle close to the fire
Wishing for it to engulf me.

I am not out here to kill
Torch me for  a bon fire tonight
Relive me from this battle to breathe.
I am not here to celebrate life.

Please do not preach
Sitting from your luxurious homes.
Sermons are easy
Reality crude
Don't expect your tomorrow to be bright
In the light of my bleak today
You must first improve my plight
For your better life ahead